


Son Of Stark

by afnspidey



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Canon Compliant, Civil War (Marvel), F/M, Hydra (Marvel), Irondad, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Protective Tony Stark, Sad, Spider-Man: Homecoming Spoilers, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 17:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 35
Words: 38,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20029792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afnspidey/pseuds/afnspidey
Summary: Steve and Tony have lived together since they first met back in 2012... since the start of the Avengers. Around the same time they adopted a son: Peter, who is their pride and joy.They never wanted him to get into the mess of bad guys, aliens, and war - but what will happen when fourteen year old Peter Stark-Rogers goes on a field trip to Oscorp with his school.Story is split into four parts.Will be updated regularly.





	1. Chapter 1

"Morning, Pete," Tony said softly as he pulled his son's bedroom curtains open. He glanced across at the fourteen year old's waking form and smiled - he was lucky to have such a wonderful family. Too lucky, he often thought to himself.

"Morning, Dad," mumbled Peter whilst turning onto his side. He ended up going a little too far, and landed on the floor with a thud.

"You alright, kid?" Tony asked. He held his right hand down to his son, pulling him up of the ground. "Nice PJs by the way," he added, after noticing the Iron Man pyjamas Peter was sporting.

"Thanks..." Peter replied, his face turning a shade of crimson. "Clint got them for me."

"Well, I love them, Tony exclaimed - ruffling his hands through Peter's hair. "However, I don't think Pops will be able to deal with two Iron Men in this Tower. To be honest, I'm not completely sure how he deals with just one."

"I'll go get changed then," Peter stated sulkily, but he was stopped by his Dad's grasp on his shoulder: which was forcing him to stop in his tracks.

"I didn't say not to wear them to breakfast, did I? Just that they will probably annoy your Pops... which isn't exactly a bad thing."

The pair strolled into the kitchen. "Hey, Pops," Peter said, sitting down on one of the chairs by the table. 

"Morning Peter, have a good night's sleep?" Steve asked, hugging his son for a brief, few seconds before returning to get his breakfast.

"Sure..." Peter replied, looking down at the table, fiddling his fingers as a distraction.

"Okay..." began Steve, realising Peter didn't want to talk about it; then as he noticed his son's choice of clothing, he said in mock anger, "Anthony Stark, what have you done?"

Tony chuckled, "I did nothing. Uncle Bird Brain on the other hand..."

"Hey!" Clint retaliated, dropping from the vents, "He asked me to buy him some awesome pyjamas and they were all out on Hawkeye merch."

"They always are," Sam added, who had just crept into the room without anyone noticing. "Morning y'all."

"Morning," Peter responded, for the second time that day.

"Lovin' the jammies, kid." Sam pointed at the Iron Man pyjamas the teen was wearing and smirked. "Think I could pull them off?"

Tony placed his hand on Peter's shoulder, "Only Stark's can pull off the rocking look of Iron Man."

Steve shook his head, and passed a plate filled with two fried eggs, three sausages, some bacon and an omelet to Peter: "Good thing he's a Stark-Rogers then..."

Tony raised his eyebrows, "What do you mean, Capsicle?"

"I mean," Steve paused and took a breath. "I mean that I don't want our son going 'round the country in a suit running headfirst into danger."

"Like you don't do that," Tony muttered.

"Yes. I do do that. And that's exactly why I don't want Peter doing it. I've seen what happens, when things go wrong. I couldn't let that happen to him."

"You guys know I'm right here, right?" Peter cut in, slowly eating the breakfast that had been put before him.

Tony gave him one of his signature the adults are talking looks, forcing the teen to return to his meal. 

"If he wants to be an Iron Man Junior, why shouldn't he be. After all, he's only helping people."

"Tony, if you want to have this talk with me, we'll have it later. Fury called me earlier, found some leads on Bucky, told me to meet him today. Goodbye," Steve said sternly. He was in no mood to argue with his husband, especially over something that involved his son's safety. And anyway, he had more pressing matters on hand: he hadn't seen his old pal's face in forever.

"Pops," Peter said as Steve stood up and headed towards the door, "Y'know I never actually said I wanted to be an Avenger like you and Dad."

Steve smiled, "I know... But you've got a heart, kid, and that means you probably want to."

Peter blushed, "Have a good day at work, Pops."

"I will do, Pete, and you, young man, have a good day on that field trip to Oscorp."

Tony choked on the glass of water he had previously been drinking, "W-hat? You're going to Oscorp?"

Steve glanced down at Peter, a grin on his face, "You didn't tell him?"

"How could I?" Peter groaned, "I knew he would get like... like this about it."

The blond and the teen looked over at Tony who was muttering, "Oscorp, Oscorp! Why would anyone in their right minds want to go to Oscorp?" under his breath.

"Yeah, maybe it was a good idea." Then, Steve added, "Well, I better be off. See you later. Love you!" He walked out of the room.

"Dad," Peter said quietly, "It's only a school trip, it's not gonna make me hate Stark Industries."

"I know," Tony exclaimed, "Let's get you to school, we don't want you to be late for your trip." The man almost spat the word, leaving Peter glad to head down to the car park and get into his Dad's favourite white Audi.

* * *

Peter sat down on the school bus, beside his best friend. "Hey, Ned," he said as he pulled out his phone.

"Hiya, you excited for this trip?" Ned asked, peering over at his friend's phone.

"Yeah, it'll be okay. Probably seen it all before at Dad's lab but at least we're missing lessons."

Ned looked at him surprise, "How can you call going to Oscorp okay? It'll be epic!" 

Flash and MJ joined them on the row behind them. "Hey, losers," MJ said jokingly, "Ready to die of boredom on this trip?"

"I thought it would be pretty sweet actually, MJ," Ned insisted, turning around in his seat. 

"I said that too but she wouldn't let me have that opinion," Flash added.

Peter spun on his seat to face his friends. Placing his phone in his jacket pocket, he said, "I'm with you on this, MJ. I don't wanna go either."

* * *

"Alright everyone, off the bus," called out their teacher: Mr Harrington.

The four clambered out of their seats, grabbing their bags, and joined the rest of the class outside of Oscorp.

"Welcome, Midtown," exclaimed a lady, who was wearing a white lab coat, "My name is Katie, and I will be taking you on your tour today!"

She was very pretty. Her eyes were a deep, emerald green and her was a mix of auburn and chestnut locks - which were tied up in a ponytail. However, Peter saw something beneath her freckled skin. Something secret... something bad.

He tried to put the thought behind him as they continued into the compound, but he couldn't. It was still there - a drifting feeling at the back of his mind.

"You okay, Peter?" Ned asked, noticing his friend's pale face as they were led into a room, that was labelled Cross-Species Genetics. 

Peter nodded his head, leaving Ned off his case, however MJ seemed to see something was up.  
"What's the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing... I'm fine."

MJ took a step back and took in Peter's appearance. "You don't look fine."

Peter tried to ignore the comment, and hurried over to where the rest of the class were stood. Katie was showing them a contained, glass cage - that was filled with hundreds of blue and red spiders.

"There probably should be 350 spider's in here, but for some reason the scanner is only detecting 349 life forms," Katie said, her eyes frantically searching through the cage: hoping to find the source of the missing spider. "It probably just died. Most of the animals that are not used to the experiments do. However, it is always in a non-painful way," she reassured the group.

"She probably just said that to scare us," Flash whispered to Ned, after noticing his trembling form. 

Ned nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, you're probably right," he added, catching onto Flash's joke.

MJ moved over so that she was stood on the other side of Ned, but Peter carried on intensely watching the spiders. They mesmerised him; the small, colourful arachnids scuttling around their closed enclosure.

He felt a slight ticklish sensation up his neck. It was because of all the talk on spiders, he guessed. Oscorp weren't that awful at security measures to have one of their experiments just waltzing around the compound. Were they?

"Hey... loser. You coming or not?"

Peter lifted his head to see who had asked him... it was MJ. The rest of their class had gone through the door into the next room, leaving him and her alone with the interns and scientists there. "Yeah, I'm coming."

Then he felt it. A sudden burn on the back of his neck. It left as soon as it came, but he now had a faint headache. "Ouch," he muttered, under his breath.

MJ raised her eyebrows, watching as Peter Uber his hand against the back of his neck. "You hurt?"

"Felt something on my neck... Like a bite."

"A spider bite?" she questioned, her face emotionless, making it hard for Peter to tell if she was joking. "Relax, I'm kidding," she added: somehow reading his mind.

"I've just got a bit of a headache. Gonna call my Dad, ask if he can pick me up," said Peter. "Tell Mr. Harrington for me, will you?"

MJ smiled, nodding her head, "Okay, sure thing."  
Peter turned, heading towards reception. "Wait, Peter, one more thing... feel better soon."

"Bye, MJ."

"Bye, loser."

Peter walked out through reception, sighing in relief when the cold air of the outside world hit him. He was sweating, whether it was from nerves or heat he couldn't tell, and his vision was blurring.

He swiftly called his Dad's number and waited for a response.

"Hey, Petey, why you callin? Already bored of Oscorp?" Tony teased.

"That... And I've got a headache," Peter answered, not elaborated on the details as he didn't want to stress his Dad out.

"Want me to pick you up?"

"Yes, please."

Ten minutes later, Peter was sat in the passenger seat of his Dad's black, Acura NSX. The teen had cranked the A/C up to full, leaving his Dad shivering whilst he drove.

"Kid..." Tony said gently.

"What?" Peter snapped. His Dad's voice had been dialled up to eleven. It was too loud, almost deafening.

"Jeez, kiddo. What's gotten into you?"

Peter sunk into his seat. "Everything's really loud. I can barely concentrate on anything. Every little feeling feels magnified, and I don't know why."

"Anything happen back in there?" Tony asked, wondering if this all started because of something going wrong at Oscorp.

"I felt like I got bitten. It was around the spider container in there. But I didn't, it was probably just because Katie, the tour guide, told us one was missing."

Tony paused and took a deep breath, "Say you did get bitten, what would happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I highly doubt they were regular spiders. Were they enhanced at all?"

Peter shook his head, "I believe they were radioactive."


	2. Chapter 2

"Radioactive?" Tony echoed, turning his attention back to the road in front of him.

"I think so... I wasn't really paying attention though, most of the stuff wasn't nearly as advanced as what you make."

Tony's face reddened, "I'm flattered, Petey, but do you remember anything about the spiders, anything?"

Peter stared out of his window, watching as the skyscrapers and buildings went by in a haze of browns, whites and reds. What was it that Katie had said? He searched through the back of his mind, trying to cut out the conversation he had had with his friend; he only needed the background sound: the information the tour guide had given them.

"It's all to do with cross-species genetics," said Peter, finally.

Tony raised his eyebrows, glancing at his son out of the corner of his eyes. "What?"

"The section we looked at, Richard Parker's stuff: he was working on cross-species genetics."

Tony huffed, "If if bit you... You don't think you'd get the attributes of a spider, do you?"

Peter shrugged. It was perfectly plausible. Especially when you lived in a building, which is home to: an enhanced super soldier, a man with an arc reactor in place of his heart, a physical AI, a girl with awesome - and kind of weird - powers, a man who thinks he's a hawk, a man who thinks he's a falcon, a man who can grow real big - and real small, and an incredible assassin. 

"We'll have to run some tests on you, kiddo. See what the bite's done to you, treat it before your Pops finds out," Tony informed his son. 

"He's gonna kill you if he does find out."

Tony chuckled, "Why's he killing me and not you?"

"Because he loves me way too much," Peter replied.

A gasp filled the car, "He loves me too, Underoos. You do realise we're married?"

"You do realise I'm his one and only, super, amazing, awesome son?" mocked Peter.

Tony smirked, "It's a good thing that I made a few improvements to this car..."

"Why?"

"So I can do this." Tony flicked a silver lever beneath the steering wheel. A red interface system appeared on the dashboard, similar to the one inside his suits. "Fri, turn on auto-drive mode; take us to the Tower."

"On it, Sir."

Peter looked across at his Dad, his eyes wide as he realised what was about to happen. "Dad, don't. Please, don't..." The teen was cut off by his own squeals of laugher, trying to squirm away from his Dad's tickles.

"You deserve this, Mister," Tony stated whilst continuing to tickle his son. 

For the next ten minutes of the ride home, Peter struggled against Tony, failing to escape from the painful torture being endured upon him. "Stop!" He exclaimed, after he could take no more. For some reason the tickles felt eleven times worse than usual - making it harder to stand the pain.

"Lucky for you, Pete, we're home."

Peter begrudgingly followed his Dad into the Tower. Every single sound, every little whisper, was amplified in his head. He could hear - and at the same time not hear - the words his Dad was saying to him. It was like being in a room and watching as people spoke, hearing the words, but not understanding any of it. 

His senses were dialled to eleven.

"You alright, bud?" Tony asked, once he had noticed the teen's hands clamped around his ears. 

Peter shook his head, closing his eyes in frustration. He wanted to be fine. He wanted to be brave. He wanted to be like his Dad and Pops. But he wasn't anything like them: he was plain, old Peter. Might as well just be Peter, no Stark or Rogers fame. That's all he was... Just Peter. Yes, he thought to himself, that's how he should start referring to himself: Just Peter. 

As the father and son walked through the main hallway - the one that passed by the training room - Tony saw Clint peek his head out from one of the many doors. "Not the time, Barton," and when the man continued through the door, Tony raised his voice, "Did you hear me, Barton, or do you need me to go get the mind stone from Vision?"

That made Clint freeze in his tracks, clearly in pain from the sudden flood of old memories. He had tried to forget them, to lose them, within the heaps of good ones he had made. But Tony had to go and remind him. Tears filled his narrow eyes, leaving them glassy, and he headed back into the training room.

"Come on, Pete."

* * *

Tony put his arm around the teen, when they walked into the lab. He could see the anxiety building up beneath the boy's skin, showing through the creases in his pale skin. Peter had been trying to suppress the worst of it: the way he could feel this weird tingling sensation throughout his body, the way he could hear the conversations of people far away, the way he could barely focus on one point of view. And that had made it worse.

"Peter..."

"Yes, Dad," Peter replied in a muffled voice, after removing his cupped hands from his ears. 

"Tell me everything, and I mean everything, that has happened since the bite."

Peter sat down on one of the hospital-like beds, shuffling up enough for Tony to sit beside him. Once he was seated next to his Dad, he said: "I can hear everything. I can hear the conversations of people in different rooms... in different buildings for that matter."

Tony nodded his head, scribbling something down on the piece of paper on his clipboard. 

Enhanced Hearing

It read.

"At the moment it's fine, but back when I was feeling worse. When there were loads of people, when I was feeling stressed... I could barely see. It was like looking into a kaleidoscope: everything was refracted and reflected and I couldn't concentrate."

Peter eyed his Dad, looking for a reassuring nod of his head, or any type of noticeable approval. Tony smiled back at him, a comforting smile - signalling the fourteen year old to continue.

"I feel... stronger. As if I could lift anything, like you can when you're int our suit, or like Pops can. I can physically see the definitions in my legs and arms. They weren't there before. And I feel hungry, really hungry. And it's not like I haven't eaten in ages..."

Tony added more to his list, the paper now consisting of:

Enhanced Hearing  
Overly Enhanced Vision - Too Much Input?  
Super Strength  
Super Metabolism  
(Probably Enhanced Senses...)

"Anything else?" Tony cut in.

Peter nodded his head, "Yeah," he paused - catching his breath, "Throw something at me, anything, but wait until I'm facing the other way."

Tony looked at him, puzzled. "Why?"

"I don't know, I just have this hunch." Peter spun around on the bed, so that he was facing the wall, and Tony stood up.

The brunet walked over to his desk and picked up a stapler. He tossed it towards Peter's right side, staring in amazement as his son caught it without even looking at the flying stationary.

"Woah," they both said unison.

"Kid," Tony added, "I'm gonna take a sample of your blood. Afterwards, go to bed, get some rest. We'll see how you are tomorrow.

"Kay..."

Peter stuck his arm out and looked the other way, wincing when his Dad pulled the needle out. "It's all done, kid, you can go to sleep now."

"Alright, g'night, Dad."

"Night, Petey."


	3. Chapter 3

Nine hours later, Steve walked down into the lab, only to find Tony frantically running around the messy room. He looked at his husband with concern. The billionaire looked a state: his hair was sticking up all over the place, there were dark bags underneath his eyes. He appeared to have been down there all day, researching or experimenting or doing whatever Tony Stark does. "Tones, you need to get some sleep," the soldier stated, hoping to get through to him.

Tony blanked him and continued to run tests on a red liquid, which appeared to be blood. Whose blood: Steve didn't know, but it seemed to be important to Tony. What if it was Tony's blood? What if he was seriously ill? "Tones," Steve repeated, "What are you doing?"

"Wha-at?" Tony mumbled, finally noticing Steve was there, "Oh hi, Stevie."

"Hey... What exactly are you doing?"

"Analysing this blood sample."

"Right. Who's blood is it exactly?" asked Steve, no more reassured than he was when he saw his husband for the first time that evening.

"Pete's."

Steve paused for a moment, "Alright, but can I know why you're running tests on his blood?"

"No, Steve, you cannot."

"He's our son, for gosh sake, why can't I know?" Steve asked, trying his upmost best not to clench his fists.

"Because you wouldn't like my answer."

"I still want an answer. Whether I do or do not like it," Steve insisted, taking a step towards the shorter man.

"I can't tell you."

"Tony..." Steve glared at him, his usually ocean-blue eyes turning into a turquoise colour.

"I just said, I can't!"

Steve shook his head, laughing, "I thought we trusted each other. That when we married we would never keep secrets from each other. That's why I came down here to tell you that we found Bucky. However, if you can't trust me with something involving our son, Tony, I think I'm gonna go stay the night at The Hub... with him."

He walked out of the lab, leaving Tony alone. He hated being this angry. He hated being this mad. But, why didn't Tony trust him enough with something as important as Peter's health? They had raised the kid since he was ten, since his only left relatives had passed. They were as much a family as any could be. Why did Tony have to go and ruin that?

Tony took another look at the results on his monitor, and gasped in surprise. "Oh, shit." A gap formed in his chest as he realised no one was going to yell language at him. No one was going to correct his profanity - not today, and if things didn't go well with Steve, not ever again.

Maybe he could teach Peter to do it...

No, that wouldn't work. No one could ever replace Steve Rogers. Ever.

Tony took one more hard stare at the computer screen; it displayed a diagram of a double helix structured DNA, however it had mutations all over it: making it theoretically stronger... before going upstairs to Peter's bedroom.

* * *

Slowly opening the door, Tony crept into Peter's room. What did he talk about first: the DNA results, or Steve? Both had turned into a swarm of butterflies, fluttering around his stomach. He felt nervous. Uneasy. Scared.

What if Peter only loved him when Steve was there? What if he only pretended to love him, what if it was all an act?

No, that couldn't be true. He's my baby 

Tony reassured himself, however his forehead was still wet from his sweat. He still didn't know what to say, and as the word started to form on the top of his tongue,

"Hey, Dad, is that you?"

Tony sat down on Peter's bed, being careful not to sit on his son. "Yeah, it's me. I... I've got some news."

Peter sat upright, rubbing his eyes - blinking rapidly, "Good news or bad news?"

Tony sighed. "Bad news and however you decide to take it news. What would you like first?"

"The bad news, I guess."

"Peter..." Tony started, leaving the teen as pale as a ghost. Tony almost never called him by his actual name: it was always nicknames and pet names, mainly to annoy him. "Your Pops and I had a bit of an argument downstairs. He's gonna stay with that friend of his, Bucky, the one everyone was looking for, until we sort things out." If we sort things out, Tony thought.

"Will I still be able to see him... if things don't work out between you two?" Peter asked, in a more mature manner than Tony expected from him.

"Of course, Petey. I'll never stop you from seeing him."

"Good," the teen whispered. However, his gaze was yet to fall from his duvet - and he hadn't once let Tony's eyes meet his own. "The... other news?"

"Well," said Tony, "It's about the spider bite. I did the tests, and all, and found out somethings happened to your DNA."

"What?" muttered Peter, quietly. "Is it something bad? Is it deteriorating? Is it changing? Is it evolving?"

"From a certain point of view..."

"Don't start using Obi Wan against me, Dad. Just tell me the answer!"

"It's mutating."

There was silence. The two usually loudest people in the Tower had fallen quiet, the only sounds in the room being their heavy and hasty breathing.

"The spider bite contained DNA," Tony continued, "And it's bonded with your own."

"Okay..." Peter replied, hesitantly.

"You've got some powers... which we need to test out. But they're there. Science never lies."

"At least I'm now like you and Pops," Peter exclaimed. Then after seeing the smile on his Dad's face fade, he added: "Sorry."

"No, it's okay. You can talk about him, Pete. I don't mind. But, what exactly do you mean you're now like me and your Pops?"

"I mean I obviously inherited the brains from you," stated Peter.

Tony coughed - interrupting his son, "And the looks."

"And now I've got genetically enhanced powers... just like Pops," he finished, slightly less enthusiastically.

"Kid, it's half seven," Tony said, an idea forming in his mind. "Do you want me to order in pizza, then we go work down in the labs?"

"Sure, but why?"

Tony grinned. "You'll see why when we get there."


	4. Chapter 4

Peter and Tony were sat in one of his labs, a large, pizza box open in front of them. "So, what's your great idea, Dad?" Peter asked, in between a bite of the cheese-covered food.

"Well, you've got these powers. Why don't we see what you can do and maybe - just maybe - create a suit to match your abilities."

Peter's eyes lit up, a smile forming on his face. "Wait... You mean I get to come on patrol with you and the rest of the squad?"

"Maybe, and squad? Tony questioned, eyeing his son weirdly.

"Hey! Let me use the words I want: after all it is a free county."

Tony shook his head in disbelief. "Should we run some experiments then, Underoos?"

"Hell, yeah!" Peter exclaimed, before a solemn look overcame him. It was as if all the happiness in the word has been drained from him, only to be replaced by sadness.

"Y'alright, Buddy?"

"Just realised that Pops isn't here to tell me to watch my language..."

Tony put his arms around Peter, "It's okay, kiddo. Let's do some spider-stuff to take your mind off it."

Peter nodded, "Okay." 

For the next five hours, Peter and Tony tested out every single possible power they thought the teen could have. And, once they were done, they started working on a suit. Peter designed the majority of it - leaving Tony to work on the engineering of it.

Eventually, when the clock read 3am, Tony shooed Peter off to bed - telling him that he needed to sleep. Despite Peter's protests, the billionaire won the argument.

"Now, back to the suit," he said to himself.

What were Peter's favourite colours, he wondered, whilst working on the overall aesthetics of the suits appearance. Blue? Yes that was one. "Oh, and red", he said, aloud by accident.

By the time he had finished upgrading every single thing he could on the spandex clothing, the sun had risen - and Peter had woken up.

"Mornin', Dad," he mumbled through a piece of dry toast he was eating. It was clear he was still tired but Tony could see the excitement on his son's face, and decided against dragging him back to his bed.

"How'd you sleep?" Tony asked, picking up the finished suit and hiding it behind his back.

"Fine," muttered Peter, then as he saw his Dad's hands holding something behind his back, "What is it? Did you finish the suit?"

Tony grinned. "Maybe..."

Peter started jumping up and down on the floor, a beam across his bright face, "Can I try it on? Can I? Can I, Dad, please?"

Tony tossed the suit at him, "Go ahead, kiddo. I'll wait in here."

Peter ran out of the lab. Wait, no it wasn't a run, it was a skip. Peter skipped out of the lab, the suit in his arms - and ran to the training rooms. He went in the changing in rooms in there and put on his new suit.

"Woah, Dad, this is awesome," he exclaimed as he walked back into the lab.

"You wanna test out these?" Tony asked, handing Peter two black band-things.

Peter's eyes widened, "Those aren't what I designed last night... this morning, are they?"

"Yes they are!" Tony chuckled. He hadn't seen Peter this happy in what seemed like forever, but he knew this was only a cover up - or at least a temporary state of mind. Suddenly, and he didn't know how soon, the teen would remember about Steve and the walls of protection Tony had placed around him would crumble down.

However, Peter was strong: he will get through this. At least, Tony hoped the kid would.

"Do they... do they work?"

"What do you think, Petey?" Tony said, jokingly, "Would I ever not finish a project for you?"

"So, so they do work! That's sick! Did you use my formula for the webbing? Is there multiple combinations? Is there a way to dissolve it, seeing as you sent me to bed before I could make the antiserum? So if there isn't, well then it's your fault, wait no, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry."

Peter paused from his ranting, taking deep breaths. It wasn't working: he wasn't able to calm down. Then he jumped back in shock, landing on the wall behind him.

Tony burst out laughing at the sight of his son stuck to the wall, "You 'kay, kid?"

"There was a voice, in my head. She said 'are you alright, Master Peter, your heart rate is getting dangerously high,' and it scared me," Peter replied, through his breaths: as he climbed down from the wall.

"Oh," Tony smiled, "That's just the AI I put into your suit."

"An AI? For me?" Peter exclaimed - throwing himself at his Dad, "Thank. You. So. Much."

Tony combed his fingers through Peter's hair, "That's okay, bud, you're welcome."

* * *

Steve woke up to find Bucky curled up next to him, his breathing soft and calming. The blond pushed his best friend's hair off of his face, and sighed. This fuzzy feeling overcame him whenever he looked at - or even thought of - Bucky, every time. It wasn't like his love for Tony, which he was sure was slowly dissipating, it was stronger... more real. That worried him, he couldn't be dishonest to Tony, not whilst they were still married: so he'd have to sort it out legally.

A divorce?

That would work. Peter could come live with him part of the time, and with Tony the rest of it. They'd be a happy family, eventually. Steve was sure it work, sure Tony would understand.

They had been arguing so much recently, more than they had ever done before...

"Morning, punk," Bucky mumbled, startling Steve slightly seeing as the Captain hadn't noticed his pal's awakening.

Steve smiled, "Jerk..."

"How are you?"

Sighing, Steve responded, "I'm okay, just a bit worried about what's going on back home."

"Right," Bucky muttered, "You've gotta family, we can't..."

"Buck," interjected Steve, "I had a family. Me and Tony... well we haven't exactly been getting on lately. My son, on the other hand, well I don't know what Tony has been telling him."

"Lies probably," the brunet whispered, "I can't imagine you doing anything wrong, Rogers. You're too good a person."

"Buck..."

Bucky continued, "If you don't love him, Stevie, tell him. You're too bad a liar to fake love."

"Alright, fine.... I'll go call him now."

* * *

Tony pulled away from Peter, when his phone started vibrating. "Just gonna take this call, why don't you test out the web shooters?"

Peter nodded and started fiddling with his new shooters, as Tony picked up his phone. "Hey... Steve."

Peter looked at his Dad in shock, he mouthed, "Pops?"

"Shush, Pete," Tony said sternly, holding up his hand, at the same time.

"Peter's with you?"

"Yes, Steve. Me saying 'shush Peter,' does imply that, doesn't it?"

"This is why I left, last night. This is why we don't work!"

"Steve..."

"You never tell me the truth, Tony. And when you do, it's only the half the story."

"Ste-"

"No. Tony. Listen to me. For once in your life, stop pretending you're the most important person in the world. Cos you're not, you aren't..."

Tony sighed, giving in to Steve's anger. He sat down on one of the spinning chairs - watching as Peter started to play with his gadget.

"I can't do this anymore, Tones. We can't be a thing. It's just not gonna work..."

"Because of Bucky?"

"No, Tony. Because of you."

The phone hung up, leaving Tony sat on his chair - tears in his eyes.

"Dad?" Peter asked, "What's wrong?"

"Your Pops isn't coming back."

"Oh..."


	5. Chapter 5

Steve put his cell in his pocket, exhaling as he did. Bucky looked at him, his face emotionless - like he couldn't decide on how to reassure his friend.

"It'll be okay, Steve," he said, finally, standing up and putting his arm around his friend. "I'm with you till the end of the line, pal."

Steve smiled, recognising the words that came from his friend's mouth. "I know. And it's just... you being here is so surreal. And I mean you being here, not The Winter Soldier." He watched as Bucky beamed at him, a smile that he hadn't seen that frequently. "Bucky, I think I'm love with you."

"Steve."

"Oh gosh, you don't feel the same way. Do you. I'm an idiot. I really am..." Steve interrupted, his heart pounding as he started to pace around the room.

Bucky smirked, "Only one of those things are true, and let me tell you, Stevie, we all know you're an idiot."

"Wait... You lo-ve me?" he stammered, after comprehending the words Bucky had just said.

"Since we first met. Couldn't mention it back then, of course. Probably would've been shot for it... Now, though, it's a common norm. A man can love a man without anyone hating on it."

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky. The world around him brightening as he did. "Buckeroo?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows, "Bucker-what?"

Steve laughed, "Jeez, relax, James, it's a nickname."

Putting his hands up in surrender, the brunet took a step back: almost hitting the wall behind him.

"Well, Buck, I don't think I can spend the rest of my life without you. I wanna stay with you till I'm at least a hundred years old..."

"Aren't you like, what.... ninety-seven?"

"Aren't you like ninety-eight?" Steve mocked him.

"Yes, I get it, we're both older than we look - some of us," Bucky placed a hand on his chest, "Look a lot younger than we actually are..."

Steve coughed in amusement, "Yeah, yeah, we all know that I still look like a twenty year old." Bucky playfully shoved him, earning himself a grin from the blond.

"So me and you..." Bucky began.

"Are gonna fondue?" Steve said, in a slightly more hesitant way than he wanted.

Bucky raised his eyebrows, "What the hell does fondue mean? Please tell me there is a meaning and you weren't just trying to make it rhyme?"

Steve went red. "There's a meaning. Um. Well. Peggy said something about it back, back before I... found you... in the War. When Hydra first... I misunderstood her, thought she and Howard, did it..."

Bucky burst out laughing, unable to keep a straight face. "You thought Peggy Carter and Howard Stark? Oh my gawd, you're adorable."

"Hey!"

"But I love you anyway..."

* * *

"Dad," Peter said, as Tony prepared his newest suit. "Can I come out on patrol with you?"

Tony stared at his son, and anxiously responded with, "Sure thing, kiddo. "

He couldn't say no now. If he did then he'd be a complete hypocrite - and it wasn't like anything would go wrong... nothing bad ever happens in New York.

Apart from Loki and the Chitauri invading...

But that was years ago, and Loki was now dead. Thanos would never affect him again.

"Just make sure to keep your face covered... for two reasons. One we don't want any of my enemies finding out you're the newest hero. Two you're meant to be sick off school."

"Okay."

The two flew out of the building, and by flew out I mean Tony flew and Peter swung. Despite it being his first time, he was webbing around as if he'd been doing it for years.

"You're a natural, kid!"

Peter snarked, "I know I am." In a manner very much similar to Tony's. It made the man laugh, as they continued patrolling the city.

"Da-ad, we should split up."

"Why?"

"Cos we'd get things done quicker, we have got the coms..." Peter remembered.

"Nope. Nu-uh. Not today. Maybe in a few weeks but right now it's a no no."

"Fine," whined the boy, whilst they got back to the patrolling.

Nothing bad happened that evening. In fact neither of the Starks had to step in at all. All crimes they spotted were mediocre, so Friday and Karen would automatically contact the cops.

"It's not on an Avengers pay role," Tony would say, before heading off into the distance: leaving the fourteen year old to catch up with him.

When they finally returned to the Tower, it was gone midnight - meaning Peter had to go directly to bed. "Night, Spiderson," Tony mumbled, as he shut the door.

"Night, Irondad..." Peter whispered as he fell asleep.

* * *

The next day was Friday, and that was the day Steve Rogers and Tony Stark had set up a meeting with a law attorney. The meeting was at 10:30, so Tony of course showed up at 10:45. 

Then for the next hour and a half, the two Avengers went though files of paperwork, until they had legally divorced.

The attorney, who appeared to have been either drunk or was just had a spur of the moment idea ended the meeting by saying, "I now pronounce you single and single. You may now walk away..."

Tony at that point untucked his shirt and waltzed out of the room, ready to head home to Peter. However, one thought kept flashing through his mind: where would Steve be staying? Surely he and Bucky wouldn't be staying at The Hub forever.

"Steve, wait up," he called after the tall blond.

"What?" Steve snapped, sharper than he intended to.

"You and Bucky, and yes I know you two are a thing," he added after seeing Steve's expression, "Where are you two staying? After The Hub..."

"Peggy said she has a spare apartment I can borrow... Actually, I think Howard gave it to her first..." Steve answered.

"That, well that's nice. See you at the next briefing, I guess..."

"Right..." Steve muttered, but never got a chance to finish his sentence because Tony had already got into his white Audi and started to drive off.

* * *

Peter greeted Tony at the bottom of the Tower, wearing only his pyjamas - despite the time. "Hiya, Dad. How'd it go?"

"It went okay," Tony said calmly, making sure not to worry the boy anymore than he had to. "How comes you are still in your PJs?"

Peter took a step back, "They were comfy, and plus I only just woke up..."

Tony smirked. "No Iron Man jammies today?"

"Nope," Peter stated, "Auntie Tasha said I should wear a Hulk onesie seeing as it's Doctor Banner's birthday today. She said we need a bit of Hulk and Bruce around the Tower to remind everyone about him."

"He's not dead, kiddo. Just missing."

"I know, I know. It's just a nice thing - like Aunt Tasha said - to celebrate it for him."

Tony hugged his son, he didn't deserve a kid that was so kind.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey, Spiderling," Tony whispered, pulling the covers off of Peter, "It's time for you to get up."

Without opening his eyes, Peter shook his head. "Nuh Uh," he mumbled, rolling into a ball for warmth. Tony could see that the kid hadn't been sleeping, or at least he hadn't slept much. The man knew the signs - clear as a summer's day - after all he spent nearly all of the night awake. And by nearly all, he really meant 99.9%.

The brunet sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the curled up teen towards him. "You've got school, buddy. You need to go learn, become almost as smart as me!"

This triggered something in Peter's subconscious mind as he quickly muttered back the snarky reply of, "Don't need to go... already smarter."

Tony smirked, his personality was rubbing off on the teen. That was probably not a good thing but he was going to let that slide. Who doesn't like Tony Stark? Exactly, nobody. He stood up.

"Come on, kid, you gotta get up," Tony tried again. This time whilst pulling the boy up off the mattress. However, instead of stiffening and standing upright, Peter clung to Tony's grasp: his body limply hanging from the man's arms.

"Peter..."

"No."

Tony dropped him on to the bed, "Pete, what's wrong?"

The boy buried his face in a pillow, trying to block out the outside world. His senses were dialled to eleven - giving him a super headache. "Nothing," he muffled through the cushion.

Sighing, Tony once again picked up his son: cradling him in his arms. "Kiddo... what am I going to do with you?"

The silence left Tony anxious. Steve usually dealt with this kind of stuff; he was the fun parent - Steve was the parental one. 

"Dad...?" 

Tony looked down at his son, who's face was hidden in the man's chest. "What is it, bud?"

"Do.... do I have to go to school?"

"Why?" Tony asked, hesitantly, "Don't you want to go?"

"I... I just don't feel up to it. I'd rather focus on anything but Midtown right now." Peter pulled out of his Dad's grasp, "Especially with everything else I'm going through..."

Tony pondered over that phrase: everything else. What else was Peter referring to? Did he mean the breakup between him and Steve? Or did he mean the spider bite and the powers he had received from it?

"Kiddo..."

"Yeah?" replied Peter.

"You ever gonna feel up to going back there? And if you don't think you will... Would you rather be homeschooled by me and anyone else who wants to help?" Tony asked, remembering the struggles of dealing with both Stark Industries and being a fully fledged hero. Sure, this was school and not work they were talking about but balancing two lives is quite hard.

The teen's eyes lit up in excitement, "Really? You'd let me do that? You'd teach me?"

Tony laughed, "Of course I would, Petey. You're my star... my sun... my whole live will happily work around you."

"Thanks for the dad joke, Dad. Definitely wanted to hear another one of your awful puns."

"Aw-ful? Did you just call my amazing comedy awful?"

"Yes I did."

* * *

Steve sat down on the couch, a plate of avocado on toast in his hand. "Whatcha watching, Buck?" the blond asked, his eyes averting to the television in front of him.

"A... a documentary. One on the war." 

Steve felt a surge of panic flood through him, sparking off in different directions. The war. World War II. Whatever people wanted to call it, he could never escape the mention of it.

"W-hy? We lived through it... I was a freakin' mascot for our side... We know what happened," stammered Steve. The Captain was now turning pale, as if a faint coating of white paint had been brushed across him.

"Well... 'Cause, I never had a chance to see how we won. I only saw Hydra's propaganda, nothing else, nothing more. Now I'm with Shield I might as well find out what I've missed."

"Right," Steve replied, still somewhat uncertainly. For the next thirty minutes of the film, the blond remained silent whilst it played. However when r cut to a section on his own team: The Howling Commandos, he couldn't hold it in anymore.

They mentioned Bucky's death... leaving both Steve and Bucky in tears. Bucky saw how much worse his pal was taking it and decided to comfort him. He placed him arms around the soldier.

Steve's breathing relaxed, the waterworks slowed - and a new feeling crept inside of the blond. He quickly kissed Bucky... it was a spur of the moment action, it just felt right to him. They may have conceded their love, but they had never mentioned going further with it.

And you know what happened next?

Bucky kissed him back.

* * *

Peter finally made it to the kitchen at 10am, wearing one of: Tony's white tees, Clint's brown flannels and his own navy sweatpants. 

"Would you like me to make you something to eat, Peter?" asked Vision, who happened to be walking through one of the walls at that moment.

Peter knew how terrible Vision's cooking skills were but he was feeling rather peckish. "Sure, thanks," he answered, after much hesitation.

"Would you like a full English, I believe you had one on your holiday there two years ago?"

Peter searched through his memories: trying to remember what dish Vision was mentioning. "Oh... the one with toast, eggs, baked beans - which i remember finding odd - and some other stuff?"

"Yes."

Peter nodded, "That sounds great, Vis."

A few minutes later, the boy was greeted with a plate filled with delicious food, of which was only slightly burnt. "This looks amazing, thank you."

"You're welcome, Peter," Vision replied, before heading through another wall... one which led to Wanda's room. The teen wondered why he was going in there.


	7. Chapter 7

"So I was thinking, Pete, how'd you like to do some stuff that's more your level?" 

Peter stopped swinging his legs, breaking eye contact with the glass table. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Tony paused. "You're practically ready to graduate high school already, kid, why not work on something a little more advanced?"

Peter frowned, confused. "You think I'm ready to graduate, I'm fourteen?"

Tony smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. His son really was that modest... or ignorant of his own brilliance. Either way, it was rather adorable. "And you're smarter than most of the people I," he coughed, "Ms Potts, employ."

Peter blushed, this was a lot of praise to take in at once. "Thanks..."

"And," Tony continued, "You're my son, so of course you're smart."

Peter shook his head in disbelief, and Tony laughed whilst mumbling, "So should we get started or what?"

Nodding, Peter replied with, "Sure."

In the next ten hours, Tony went over Relativistic Quantum Field Theory, Astrophysics, Electromagnetism, General Relativity, Non-Linear Optics and String Theory. The older man was amazed at how quickly Peter learnt it all. Most of this stuff took months for MIT level students to understand and it had taken merely an hour or so for his son. Calling Tony a proud parent would be understatement...

"Dad," Peter said, when they had finally finished covering String Theory, "Can we watch a movie, after dinner?"

"Oh sh-shoot... food, that's a thing."

"What?"

"Nothing," Tony insisted, rubbing his forehead in panic, "Should we order some Chinese takeout?"

Peter beamed at him. "I thought you'd never ask."

Twenty minutes into E.T. Sam and Scott walked in, carrying five closed and one half opened bag of takeout. "You two order these?" Sam asked, through a mouthful of chicken, "A guy outside was ringing the buzzer for ages, before me and Scotty, here, turned up."

Peter jumped up from the couch, webbing the remaining bags of food towards him and his Dad. "I'm starving!"

"Well, we didn't exactly eat lunch, did we, Pete?"

"Pops would kill me."

"More like he'd kill me, he loves you too much."

"I know."

"Are you incorrect Star Wars quoting me?"

"From a certain point of view..."

Peter never finished his sentence as Tony engulfed him in a Trojan horse hug, which was hiding a million tickles. "Save me, Sam, Scott... Save me!"

Sam and Scott both grinned. Then the falcon crept a little closer to the pair on the sofa, "Actually, I think I'd rather help the metal man."

* * *

"Tell me more about Peter," Bucky exclaimed, his arms wrapped around the blond. The man had mentioned him a few times briefly but had never gone into detail.

"Well... he's kinda like me back before the serum."

Bucky let out a hearty chuckle, "So a scrawny kid from New York, who thinks he can save - and help - everybody."

"Hey!"

"But also an extremely loyal friend, who everybody loves," Bucky added, before kissing Steve on the forehead.

The Captain sighed, "Yeah... He's all that, and more. He's intelligent, might be only fourteen but he's probably ready to graduate college."

The blond pulled out his wallet, from his pocket, opening it to reveal a small, passport photo of a boy. A boy with scruffy, brown hair and a mischievous grin.

"You sure he's not biologically your's and... Tony's son? He sure sounds like a mix of you both."

Laughing, Steve placed the wallet back in his jacket. "He does, doesn't he? We adopted him back after the Battle of New York, against Loki and the Chitauri..." Then, after noticing Bucky's confused expression, he added, "Thor, one of the Avengers - a celestial being - his brother tried to take over Earth. They were from outer space, Buck, and they were evil. It's how the Avengers was formed."

Bucky smiled softly to show that he kind of understood. "Ah, okay..... go on."

"His parents were killed in a plane crash, Pete was the only one to make it out alive... unscarred actually. Then he lived with his Aunt and Uncle up until the Battle but their apartment building was destroyed... Peter was the lone survivor."

"Sounds like a strong kid."

"Yep."

"Just like you..."

"I ain't a kid, Buck."

"Compared to me you'll always be a squirt."

Steve shoved his boyfriend playfully... boyfriend. Did he just call Bucky his boyfriend? Take a deep breath, Rogers, you can do this. "Bucky..."

"Yeah?"

"You wanna go meet, Peter, t'morrow," he questioned, bracing himself for the answer.

"Sounds great."

Steve relaxed. The pressure of his boyfriend not wanting to meet his son lifted. "I'll call Tony. Make sure they'll be in."

"Good."

* * *

"Jus' got an incoming call. I'll be back in a sec, bud," Tony muttered, walking out of the lounge. "Hi, Steve," he said, calmly.

"Hey... Was wondering if I could come round and see Peter, after school tomorrow."

"And by you, I'm guessing you mean Bucky too?"

"Uh huh..."

"Well, it doesn't really matter what time. The kid dropped out of Midtown."

"He what?"

"Relax, I'm homeschooling him. So's the rest of the team, actually. Clint is great with languages and surprisingly English, Rhodey teaches him math, Vision teaches him history and geography, Wanda helps with social studies and I teach him sciences... Advanced MIT level sciences for that matter." 

"Okay... alright."

"Pete wants me to go, so, see you tomorrow."

"See ya..."


	8. Chapter 8

The next day came sooner than Tony expected, and by the time both Starks were up, dressed and had eaten breakfast - pancakes for Peter and coffee for Tony - Steve and Bucky had arrived. 

"Hey, Steve," Tony said coolly, trying his best not to stare at the brunet's metal arm.

"Hi..." Steve replied as he followed his ex into the elevator. The man looked like shit. He had probably stayed up all night tinkering away in his lab - his consciousness sustained by a mix of caffeine and alcohol. The soldier was used to Tony looking like that: it was a habit of the genius to do that most nights he couldn't sleep.

Steve eyed his boyfriend, edging him on towards the billionaire, almost physically shoving him."I'm Bucky," he finally announced, a small smile trying to break through from his expressionless face.

"Yeah, I know," muttered Tony, tapping the elevator door shut. "Fri, take us up to the penthouse."

"Of course, Sir."

Bucky's eyes widened in confusion, and amazement, as he heard the Irish woman's voice appear from nowhere. It wasn't exactly frightening to him, though, he had always been a lover for technology. He could remember the last time him and Steve went to an expo together... a Stark expo. One that Tony's father had hosted. They had seen a flying car - that hadn't quite worked - and he was now wondering if Howard had ever perfected it.

"You ever built a flying car?" he asked, turning his head away from the ceiling to look at Tony's.

The Stark raised his eyebrows, taken back slightly by the sudden question. "Uh, yeah... I've worked on a few flying cars. Did one for this guy who really loved his cars, once. Think he named her Lola, or something..."

Bucky nodded, clearly impressed that flying cars were now a thing. The blond that was stood beside him, however, looked a little confused. "Why're you asking, Buck?"

"Just remembered the Stark Expo... damn that would have been neat if Howard had managed to get that car to work."

"Ah, right," Steve said, trying to picture the event the two men had attended. That day was something he wouldn't forget - but not because of the Expo - all of that had happened on the same day he had become Captain America... or at least he had had the serum.

The elevator doors opened and Tony guided the two soldiers into the lounge. "Take a seat," he offered, indicating to the black sofa, "I'll just go get Pete."

The pair sat down and Steve put his arm around Bucky. "I hope you like him," he mumbled aloud by accident.

"Of course I will, Stevie. He's your son, how could I not like him?"

Kissing Steve quickly on the forehead, the brunet quickly pulled his arm away from his boyfriend, and glanced at the door: his hearing picking up on the incoming footsteps. Yet, they were too light to be Tony's, and he doubted that the man had sent Peter in alone. 

"Hello, Rogers."

"Nat!" Steve announced, standing up to greet the redhead, a smile across his face. The agent was holding a flask, which the blond guessed was not filled with hot cocoa or coffee, and had sat down on the couch opposite then, after shaking the Captain's hand. "What are you doing here? Well I mean other than the fact your live here," he added.

Natasha smirked. "I'm training with Peter, later. Tony asked me to teach him how to throw a decent punch... not sure why though." She eyed the doorway, and watched as the two Starks walked in. "Speaking of the devil..." 

"What did you just say, Romanoff?" Tony asked, in a tone of mock offence.

"Nothing," she said, through a plastic smile. An extremely obvious plastic smile.

"Pops!" Peter exclaimed, noticing his other father sat on one of the Tower's many sofas, "Dad never told me you were gonna be here!"

"You didn't?" Steve commented, embracing the fourteen year old, who was now clinging to his shoulders.

Shaking his head, Tony replied, "Nah, I thought I would be a good surprise."

"It was, Dad! It really was!"

Peter eventually stopped hugging his Pops and sat down next to him - finally noticing Bucky. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, earning himself a disapproved glare from Steve.

"I'm Bucky," the brunet replied, holding out his hand, "I have a feeling you might have heard of me?"

"Yeah... I think Pops mentioned you once... or twice, or a bajillion times."

Bucky grinned. "Well I'm pleased to finally meet you, Peter. Your... Pops has spoken a lot about you."

Peter blushed, "Only good stuff, right?" And, after receiving no valid answer, he repeated: "Right?"

"Mostly good stuff, kiddo," Bucky replied, chuckling slightly. "Relax, I'm joking. Yeah, he's told me about how smart you are - and that you've got heart."

"Uh, thanks... I guess. Sorry about my outburst, earlier, by the way."

"That's okay, kid, no offence taken."

"Well, Pete," Steve began, whilst twiddling his thumbs, "There's a bit of news I have to share with you..."

"Yeah?"

"Me and Bucky, here, are... dating."

Peter suddenly stood up, his eyes wide. "I just remembered. I got some homework to do." The teen then ran out of the room, before anyone could question him on his choice of excuse.

"I thought you said you homeschooled him, Tony?" Steve asked, still glancing at the empty space Peter had disappeared from.

"Yeah..." Tony had used that excuse many a times, when he was younger, and quickly decided to cover up for his son. "I still set him homework, though. It helps him learn to deal with deadlines."

"Ah, okay... Me and Buck better be off, then. And don't worry about walking us out, I know the way."

* * *

"What are you doing in here, bud?" Tony asked, walking into Peter's room - a few minutes after Steve and Bucky had left.

"Well... I... Uh."

"Kid, Pete, I covered for you back there, at least tell me what I did it for."

Peter quickly closed his browser - deleting his search history - before spinning around on his chair. "It was just a lot to take in, y'know, Pops and Bucky..."

"And that's it?"

"Yeah..."

"I don't quite believe you, kid," Tony scoffed, "You see, you do this thing with your hands whenever you lie."

"No I don't."

"You're doing it again."

Peter looked down at his trembling hands, hurrying to hide them behind his back. "Fine. Maybe I do do that when I lie."

"So you were lying to me?"

"Now you're making it sound bad, Dad."

"Lying is bad, especially when it involves lying to me," retorted Tony.

"I'm sorry..."

"If you're well an' truly sorry you'd tell me what this big secret is."

"Fine... I've been looking through Shield files-"

"You hacked into Shield's server?" Tony interrupted.

"Yeah..."

"It's fine. I've done it loads - just don't mention it to your Pops, he's got a soft spot for the government."

"Well, anyway, I was looking through some of the files and I came across one which had my parents' names on it."

"Right?"

"They were Shield agents, Dad! Level 7! That's higher than you. So, I skimmed through a few of their files and documents. My father... my birth father, was the person who modified those spiders back at Oscorp."

"That's interesting..."

"Yeah, it is. I also found out that the plane crash wasn't an accident."

"What?"

"Apparently some organisation - Hydra, I think - planned it. They thought that my parents knew too much to be alive."

Tony put his arm around his son, "You okay?"

"I never really knew them. Barely remember them, to be honest. No point crying about it now."

"Crying doesn't make you weak..."

"It might not but it's certainly one of my weaknesses."


	9. Chapter 9

"Buck..." Steve began, looking out of the apartment window, watching as a flock of staring flew by. "How would you feel if Peter lived here?"

Bucky hastily finished his mouthful of slightly burnt toast, wiping the butter off of his face. "What like all the time, or a half an half agreement?"

"I don't know," the blond sighed, "Whatever would be in his better interest. If Tony has to get stripped of his rights to custody... well, that just means he's no longer fit to be a father."

Picking up another slice of toast, Bucky eyed his boyfriend - not completely sure what to say. So, instead of inputting more to the conversation, he decided to let Steve do all the talking, allowing him to destroy all evidence of the cooked bread.

"It's just- it's just he's not capable of looking after a kid on his own. Sure, he's a great dad - the complete opposite to what his own father was to him... but he's too allowing! He lets Peter do whatever he wants. I bet the kid's been staying up all night - living off chocolate milk, since I've not been there. I remember, once, when Tony bought Peter a freakin' car because the kid asked for one. He was twelve... twelve!" rambled Steve, his face going red as he struggled to catch his breath. 

"He's also an alcoholic..." Steve continued, "Anyone who's spent a few minutes with him would know what. And he's had a few professions would would be deemed un-right for a father."

The Captain paused - causing the room to be flooded by a silence - or at least a silence with the faint sound of someone eating toast.

"It's just unfair that Pete looks up to Tony more than me..."

* * *

"Where're you going, Dad?" Peter asked, watching as the brunet rushed past him - sunglasses in hand.

"Sonofa... your Pops has called a court meeting. About the custody of you, kiddo."

Peter frowned, swirling his spoon around on his bowl of lucky charms. "What do you mean?" He asked it as more of a reality check than anything else. He knew exactly what it meant: he was only gonna be able to stay with one of his parents, if it ends up in the hand of a judge. 

"Steve doesn't think I'm a fit parent, he thinks I'm a bad influence on you-"

"You're a great influence," reassured the teen.

"I know but for some reason the government never seem to trust me. They always side with the patriotic Captain America over the reckless Iron Man..."

"Oh," Peter whispered, it being the best answer he could think of in the short space of time. 

"Well I best be off," Tony announced - whilst ruffling Peter's hair, "Have fun with your Uncle Clint."

"Bye, Dad."

"Bye," Tony replied, his voice trailing off as he got further and further away.

"You 'kay kid?" Clint asked, dropping down from the vents, where he had probably been hiding away in a for an unreasonably long period of time.

"Yeah, I'm good..."

Clint smiled, "Come on, then, let's go do that Spanish work your Dad left us."

The agent picked up Peter's bowl and placed it on the kitchen counter. "I wasn't finished!" the young boy exclaimed.

Grinning, the hawk teased: "In Español!"

Peter shook his head, "Fine! Eres un idiota!"

Clint picked up the teen, hauling him out of his seat. "Why you little bribón..." he hissed, before throwing the kid to the floor - tickling him.

"Stop! Please, I mean, por favor," Peter squealed, trying to squirm away from his Uncle.

"Fine... but only because I don't want to deal with a man that can fight pretty swell and an arrogant man in a suit..."

"Who's who?"

"I'm never gonna tell."

* * *

"Mr Stark, you've finally arrived," announced the judge - who's gelled hair and fake smile annoyed Tony, despite the fact he'd worn a similar expression many times before. The court session had begun fifteen minutes prior to his arrival yet the feeling of being late always seemed to give him a rush of adrenaline.

"I have," Tony agreed, whilst sitting down and removing his sunglasses. He glared over to the two men sat a few metres away from him - the two men standing between him and his precious kid, his precious Peter.

"Okay, let's begin. Mr Rogers, your statement - if you'd please."

Steve stood up, walking over to the stand. He quickly threw a glance towards Bucky - who gave him a reassuring smile back. "I believe...," he raised his voice slightly, before continuing, "I believe that my son, Peter Benjamin Parker Stark-Rogers, should no longer remain in Anthony Edward Stark's custody."

"Anthony?" Tony muttered, his comment unnoticed by the other members of the room. Steve had never called him that, at least not in public.

"The man, who I once called a loving husband, is no more than a drunk and an addict - one who has access to a weaponised suit, and multiple laboratories. He has had many careers, which I - and I presume the court will too - believe are unsuitable for a single father. He has been a weapons manufacturer-"

Tony interrupted, with, "But I'm not, I haven't been for years."

"A playboy-" Steve continued, trying his best to ignore his ex husband.

"Again, that is all in the past: people," he slammed his hands against the wooden desk, "This happened, before I got this," he points at his arc reactor, "This happened, before I even considered having a family."

"Enough, Mr Stark! Allow Mr Rogers to finish his statement," the judge said coldly, his eyes fixed on the genius.

Tony huffed, falling back against his chair. How dare he be bossed around by a civilian, an ignorant, idiotic civilian? "He's got no good points, might as well end this here."

Glaring at him, Steve continued, "And despite him having many PhDs, none of them affect his abilities at parenting a child. In the past, I was always the parent who looked after Peter, cooked food and all that. Tony... well he just put him in dangerous situations."

"I'm a philanthropist, Rogers. I freakin' look out for people's welfare. Why would I put my own son in danger?"

"I don't know, Tony, why would you?"


	10. Chapter 10

This made Tony angrier than he could possibly imagine - if he were Bruce, he was pretty sure he would of already turned into Hulk and destroyed the entire building. "I'm not putting him in danger, Rogers," he spat, standing up hastily. "I have never, and will never, do anything to harm my son."

"Our son, Tony, our son." Steve looked across to the judge, who appeared to be scribbling something swiftly across his paperwork.

"Mr Rogers, have you anything else to add," the judge cut in, eyeing Tony, "Before Mr Stark, here, says anything else?"

Tony sat down, slightly embarrassed with himself. What if all of his frustration led to Steve getting custody of Peter, forever? That would tear at the brunet's chest - leaving an empty space, a theoretical one that could never be patched up, or filled in. He could hide it - just like he hid the real hole in his chest, the one that kept him alive. But it would be useless, the only way the man could hide his problems was with drinking: something he was trying to stop. 

The Captain nodded, "The final point I'd like to make is that Tony has been keeping stuff from me, stuff about Peter's well-being. I'm not sure what but I know he's hiding it. Even if it was just a bug, I'm pretty sure Tony should be informing me."

"The kid's fine, Steven, let it go. You didn't need to know at the time, it's not important," Tony exclaimed, sure now that this was his final chance to keep his son's custody.

"Doesn't matter, you should still tell me everything about him. You've probably gone and tested some of your crazy inventions on him - gone and got him injured..."

"Objection, your honour!" Tony said loudly, outraged by his former partner's accusations.

"Objection overruled," announced the judge, "Mr Rogers is correct, matters concerning your child should be shared, whether or not you believe they are deemed 'important'."

"That is all, your honour," said Steve as he walked back over towards Bucky. The man received a pat on the shoulder from the brunet and a friendly smile.

"You okay, Stevie?" he whispered, willing to wrap his arms around the shaking soldier - the only thing stopping him being the formality of the event.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, watching the judge intensely as he spoke to one of the jury members. Hopefully, this time tomorrow Peter would be moving into his new room: ready for a new start.

A few moments later, the judge got the three men's attention. "Alright, we have come to an agreement," he paused, inhaling and exhaling once, before resuming, "We believe that Mr Rogers and Mr Barnes should take custody of Mr Stark-Rogers. However, we would like to keep an eye on how he settles in with you, before making it a permanent arrangement."

"And how long will the temporary stay last, exactly?" Tony asked, trying his upmost best not to show his emotions. It was something he had mastered, not just from being famous but, from having Howard as his father. Howard had always told him to man up, prove that he was a Stark because: 'Stark men are made of iron.' Any show of weakness made his father mad at him, normally ending with him being punished; to be honest it was the only time Howard really interacted with him, even though it was in a negative way.

"Two weeks," the judge answered, "Now any further questions, before we can end this session?"

There were none. 

Tony left the courtroom distraught. He had two weeks to prove that old Capsicle wasn't good enough to look after Pete. That would be challenging, though, seeing as the man had been rather great at raising the boy.

* * *

"Come on, kid," Clint exclaimed, tugging the teen off of the couch, "Your Dad would skin me alive if you don't finish your work."

"He wouldn't," Peter mumbled, getting up anyway, "He needs someone to teach me Spanish."

Clint laughed. "And why do you need to know Spanish, Mister?"

"So I can be a better Shield agent than you."

"You think you could be a better spy than me? Doubt it, kiddo. Keep on dreaming, though."

"I mean you did just reveal you were a spy..."

"You've know me your whole God damn life, Peter, it's not breaking news."

"Still, isn't like the first rule of being a spy not telling anyone you're a spy?"

Clint ruffled Peter's hair, "You talk too much."

"Pops says that too... so does Dad."

"Maybe," Clint grinned, "Just maybe, they're trying to tell you something."

"Like what?"

"Like to shut up and do your freaking Spanish assignment!"

"Fine," Peter said, scowling. He sat down at the desk, which had been bought specifically for his new schooling, and began working on his Spanish assignment.

Tony stormed into the lounge, throwing his briefcase onto the countertop. He ignored both Clint and Peter's greetings and headed towards the kitchen area. He picked up a bottle champagne, opening it in an instance, before taking a swig.

"Dad," Peter repeated, standing up and pushing his chair beneath his desk. "What's wrong?"

"Go pack your bags, Pete," he muttered, waving his hand in dismiss. He went back for another drink from the bottle.

"What?" the boy asked, stunned. He shifted on the spot, looking at Clint for the answer his father wasn't giving him. He got none.

"You heard me, Peter, go pack your bags."


	11. Chapter 11

Peter rushed into his room in a strop: immediately heading to his main closet. He grabbed his largest suitcase, the blue and red one that Dad and Pops had bought him for their holiday to Corfu, and started to angrily throw clothes into it.

"Tony," he heard Clint exclaim in anger, "What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?" 

"Steve won the case, he's picking Pete up from here tomorrow morning... it's a two week trial run: if the court like what they see... Rogers and Barnes have him for good," Tony explained, wiping away the tears that had began to flow.

Clint gently touched Tony's shoulders, something he did to Cooper whenever he felt down. It probably didn't help but it felt nice trying to. "How comes you haven't told Peter, yet?"

Tony sighed. "I couldn't... it's just too hard. He's most likely listening to everything we say, though."

"How? I thought the walls were almost soundproof."

"Key word, there, Legolas, almost."

At that point, Peter peered his head out of his room, giving a scared nod. "Sorry," he whispered, "Couldn't help but overhear everything you just said."

"It's okay, bud. I shouldn't of got mad at you," Tony admitted softly, "And I probably should have told you about..."

"Everything?" Peter suggested, walking over to his Dad and leaning in against his chest.

"Yeah, kiddo," he pushed a few of Peter's curls away from his eyes, "I should've told you everything."

Clint slowly backed out of the room, not wanting to intrude on what could be one of their final hugs. He understood what Tony was going through: he knew what it felt like to have kids. 

"Dad?" Peter asked, pressing his head towards the right of Tony's arc reactor. "Why aren't I allowed to stay here... with you?"

Tony rubbed his eye, crossing his fingers that none of his tears had shown. "I don't know, bud, I... I don't know."

* * *

"Just call him," Bucky insisted, watching as Steve hesitated outside the Tower. They had been been stood there for fifteen minutes. Luckily the weather wasn't too bad, especially after the cold weather he was used too.

Steve pulled out his phone, one of the latest Stark Industries models. "What if he hates me?" he asked, distressed, as scrolled to find Peter's number. "What if he'd rather have stayed with Tony?"

Bucky pecked a kiss on Steve's cheek, "He loves you no matter what... if he's even a tiny bit like his old Pops then he'll be fine."

"Did you just call me old, Barnes? You realise you're older than me, right?"

Shaking his head, Bucky smirked. "Have you gone deatf, Rogers, call him!" Steve did just that, pressing his son's number and waiting ten seconds for an answer.

"Hey, Pete, we're outside."

"Right... Just let me go say goodbye. To Dad. To the person that I was happily living with."

"Peter..."

The call ended and Steve suddenly felt immensely worse. It was he who had started the custody battle, it was he who had split apart this family.

"What the matter with him?" Bucky asked, sounding slightly more bitter than he intended to.

Steve shrugged, "Not sure, I just know that he isn't happy."

Their queries were halted, when they saw Tony Stark physically dragging Peter towards the glass doors. "Underoos, you gotta do this for me, you have to go with them," the brunet pleaded.

"I don't wanna go!" the boy yelled, his sneakers scuffing against the marble floor. "You can't make me go!"

"Pete, kiddo, this isn't the time for you to have a tantrum. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen you pull a tantrum before..."

Peter's wide, brown eyes met his father's - blinking every few seconds to keep away the tears. "That's because I've never, ever, been taken away from the people, or person, I loved."

Tony put his hands on his son's shoulders, "Pete... you've been moved from family before-" He never got to finish his words, he never got to say how it would be different this time because Steve was his Pops. 

"No. No, I haven't. They were... they were d-dead, that's different," he shouted, breaking down by the end of the sentence. He fell to the floor, head in his hands.

"Petey, baby, it's okay," Tony whispered, rubbing Peter's back soothingly. "It's alright..."

Peter shoved Tony away, his super strength sending his Dad a few metres back. "It isn't, though. You're sending me away. You're not even putting up a fight. You're meant to be Iron Man but you can't even protect me."

Tony hauled himself off the ground, walking back over to his son. "I am protecting you, bud. If you want to be able to see me again you're just gonna have to along with this."

Peter stood up, still angered by his father but less than before, and began to walk willingly towards the doors. "Fine, I'll do this. But... only because their apartment is more central to the city, I'll be able to patrol a bit easier."

"You're gonna patrol without me?" Tony questioned, his voice covered in concern.

"Who said Iron Man can't meet... Spider-Man? There's no rules restricting him."

"Spider-Man? You're barely a teen."

"I don't think Spider-Barely-A-Teen really works... Dad."

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter, "Have fun, kid."

"Sure," Peter replied, shaking himself from the cuddle. "Love you.."

"Love you to, Pete."


	12. Chapter 12

Peter said nothing as he sat down in the back of Steve's car. He said nothing as they drove the thirty minute drive, and said nothing when Bucky lifted his case from the trunk. He said nothing whilst Steve showed him the room he would be forced to call his, and remained silent for the rest of the night: not even attending dinner, when he was asked.

"Come on, Peter," Steve begged from the other side of the teen's bedroom door. "You need to eat." In truth, Peter knew that not eating wouldn't go down too well with his new abilities, yet he didn't want to sit out there with them. 

Eventually Steve gave in to the silence, bringing a plate of grilled chicken, fries and a side of salad into the room. "Kiddo, you're hungry. I can hear your stomach growling from the other room."

Steve kneeled down opposite Peter - who was sat on a twin bed, "What's up, Pete? You've never been shy with me before..."

He got no response, which was expected, really, seeing as the boy had uttered no words the other eight hours he had been there.

"I'm your Pops, Peter, why the heck aren't you talking to me?" he asked, the anger in his question directed at himself and not his son.

Recognising the sorrow in his Pops' ocean-like eyes, Peter decided it was probably best to reply. "Because... because you took me away from Dad. I wouldn't of minded living part time, but this... this isn't what I want."

"Peter, it's not what you want... it's what's best for you."

That made no sense to the boy, who couldn't understand how him being sad was better for him than being happy. Surely his father could see that... surely?

"What's best for me is being with Dad," Peter stated, holding in the urge to clench his fists. His face was definitely red by now; he could feel his blood raging. 

"The court decided him not to be able to be a single father. That's not my fault, really it isn't."

Peter sighed, picking at a few of the French fries from the plate on his bed. They were golden, lightly salted and seemed to have some sort of herbal marinate on them: nothing like the fries his Pops has ever made before.

"You didn't cook these, did you?" he asked, trying to change the topic. He couldn't stand being mad this long - maybe he just had to get on with life like Dad had said.

"What?" Steve asked, taken back slightly. "No, Bucky did... how can you tell?"

"Your's weren't bad or anything... these are just better," he replied, picking up another handful of fries.

"Bucky used to make for us back before the war... after my Mom passed. He knew I didn't feed myself too much and still seems to have a knack for cooking."

Peter didn't reply; he wasn't too sure what to say to that. Sure, his Pops has mentioned his Mom prior to that moment... it was just awkward to get back to it right then.

Steve stood up, placing his hand on Peter's shoulder. "Come on, kiddo. Come in the lounge with me and Bucky, ever since he found out you can play chess he's been bugging me to invite you over to play..."

"Fine," announced Peter, who seemed to have cheered up a bit. He pulled himself off of the bed and followed Steve out of the room.

"Hey, Peter," Bucky said calmly. He was watching the television; a show about penguins was on - one voiced by Sir David Attenborough.

Peter glanced at him and responded slightly shyly with, "Hi..." Steve had sat down on the couch, next to Bucky, but had made space on the right of him for Peter.

The teen hesitantly sat down. "You said you wanted to play chess?"

Bucky grinned, "I sure did. Me and my pal Alfie used to play it back in the day... Your Pops, here, can't play to save his life."

Steve raised his hands in surrender, "I can play. I just like to plan out my strategy first... And Bucky likes to play speed chess."

"So, kid, should I set up the board?"

"Be prepared to get annihilated!"


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for clickingkey-boards for helping with this chapter.

It couldn't have been more than seven in the morning when Peter woke up, bleary-eyed with a knot in a muscle in his neck from the awkward angle he had been resting his head. He was positioned on the couch half-sitting, half laying down in a way that suggested he had been painstakingly moved into a comfortable position after falling asleep on someone's shoulder. All of these thoughts were floating about in the back of his head, however, as he couldn't bring himself to shake the sleepy fog from his mind. He was floating somewhere between consciousness and being dead asleep, hearing and feeling everything around him but not particularly caring either way. As long as what he was sleeping on was vaguely horizontal and not made of radioactive spiders, Peter Stark-Rogers could sleep just fine.

Just as he was considering allowing himself to fall back to sleep, he heard his pops call out, "Bucky, have you seen my sketchpad anywhere?"

A very pointed, "Shhh!" came from his left and his Pops breathed out, "Oh! Is Peter still asleep?"

"When does he usually sleep until?" Bucky asked curiously, keeping his voice down as Steve's footsteps padded over the carpet. "He's a teenager, don't teenagers usually sleep in?"

"No, the kid's usually an early-bird," he said, sitting down on the couch beside Bucky. "By the way, he definitely won that chess game, you're just a sore loser."

"Am not!" Bucky protested, and Steve shushed him - jokingly pressing his hand against his boyfriend's mouth for a second.

"Peter's asleep!"

Bucky huffed and rolled his eyes. "I know! He's right in front of me, Mister Star Spangled Man."

Peter heard both men laugh so hard it reverberated through the room, until they calmed down and took deep breaths.

"Do you think I'll be alright? You know, at the whole 'being an influence to a child' thing?" Bucky asked worriedly, and Steve chuckled.

"Of course, you'll be amazing. It'll be a little rocky at first, but it always is when you learn something new. He seems to like you as a chess partner, if that's any consolation."

There was what sounded like an affectionate shove and then Bucky said, "Thank you, punk."

"I think we should wake up Peter," Bucky suggested.

Steve nodded, taking a few steps across the room and crouching down beside the sofa Peter was sleeping on. "This is around the time he usually wakes up anyway, and Tony will kill me if I mess up his sleep schedule."

"Then you can grace him with your wonderful cooking," Bucky teased.

"Eff off, Barnes," he warned good-naturedly.

"Ooh, you said a bad language word," Bucky muttered, and Steve shot him a death glare.

"Who told you about that? Was it Stark? Hill? Tell me, Buck... I need to know which direction to shoot in on the next mission," Steve insisted, pleading with his eyes.

"The kid told me, while we were playing chess," he said, a satisfied grin on his features. "He said he heard it from an intern at SI."

"And who told the intern?" he asked, frowning suspiciously.

"Another intern," he said, thoroughly enjoying annoying him.

Steve rolled his eyes, completely buying into the annoying game. "And who told that intern?"

"The internet. One Clint Barton posted it on one of those social medias," Bucky explained.

Steve spluttered indigrantly. "That little... ugh, I'm going to kill that damn bird!"

"Peter," Steve said softly as he gently tucked the boy's curls out of his hazel eyes. "You awake, bud?"

Peter rolled over, and would have fallen off the couch if it weren't for the super soldier knelt beside him. "Yeah..." he mumbled, his eyes flickering open whilst he shifted into a more comfortable position.

Steve smiled, knowing that his kid was back to himself - or at least much closer to his original state than the day before. "You want some pancakes, kid?"

"As long as you're not the one making them," teased Peter, regretting his sny comment almost instantly. Steve tugged the blanket off of the teen and started tickling the vulnerable child. "Pops! Stop! Please! Stop!" he protested, squirming away from the blond.

Bucky glanced over at the fidgeting kid, "I have an idea... why don't I make us some grub, whilst your Pops, here, tells you what's happening?"

Nodding in agreement, Peter replied, "Sounds good. What's happening?"

Steve pushed the boy gamingly, sitting down in the cramped space he had made on the sofa. "Me and Bucky gotta go fight some bad guys, Pete... You gonna be okay home alone till we're back?"

"Yeah," Peter exclaimed, realising he could go do some Spider-Man stuff, "I'll be fine."


	14. Chapter 14

Peter spent an hour doing his schoolwork, before he tugged his suit out of his bag. He threw his blue, plaid shirt, denim jeans, and grey tee, to the carpet - stepping inside and pulling on his suit. 

He fumbled around his room, looking for his phone, and grabbed it in a sigh of relief. His fingers searched for the contact labelled:

Irondad

and smiled when the photo of his Dad started to glow on the screen. It was of Tony and Peter from the premiere of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, back on the eight of August the year before. They had gone for Peter's birthday, which was two days later - and it was one of the best non-sci-fi movies he had seen. Peter had eaten a giant tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, the one named after his Dad: Stark Raving Hazelnut, And had felt a little queasy afterwards.

The screen shone green, and Peter put the phone to his ear. "Hey, Dad, it's me... Peter."

"Hey, kiddo," Tony replied, his voice warped slightly by the noise of his suit, "You up for a bit of patrolling?"

Smirking, Peter said, "Sure! Thought you'd never ask. I'm heading out now, should I meet you by the Tower?"

"No need... I'm outside your window."

* * *

"Come on, Sir," Steve exclaimed, brushing his hand through his hair. "Peter's barely even settled in with me and Bucky, you can't send us on a mission now."

Fury shook his head. "I can, and, I will. Hydra's still out there and I need to do something about it."

"Then why don't you go do something?" snapped Steve, throwing his head backwards before letting it drop into his hands. He was trying his upmost best not to yell, not to shout, but it was hard - and it was draining him.

"Because, Captain Rogers, I may not look that old - but my time as a field agent has gone and come. You're the best we've got and you've done this before."

Sighing, Steve glanced back up at the Director. "Fine, Sir, but do you really think it's a good idea to bring Buck with me, when fighting Hydra. Isn't that essentially just handing them back their... weapon?"

"That is why he will not be with you, Captain. Why don't you let your son have some bonding time with his future stepdad?"

Steve blushed at the comment, slightly taken back by it. "We're not getting married..."

Fury snorted, "I see the way you look at each other, Cap, I bet you twenty dollars that you'll be wed to him in the next decade, and when have I ever lost a bet to you?"

"Never," Steve sighed. Fury patted him on the back, firmly. "I guess I'll go tell Bucky the news?"

"Go ahead, Captain, but you're going to have to be leaving tonight. Agent Romanoff will be working alongside you... it's a pity Banner isn't here."

Steve said nothing. The absence of a good friend and colleague hurt. Fury, however, seemed to never grieve. Never.

"You might as well stay here an' send Barnes home, Cap. We're discussing tactics in a bit, and I know you wouldn't like to miss out on that."

* * *

"Pete, I have to go... Pepper will kill me if I don't get ready for my expo tomorrow," Tony admitted, as the two headed back to Steve's apartment. 

"You're... You're leaving?" Peter stuttered, whilst climbing up the fire escape. 

"Kid, you know you can't come with me."

"Why not?" the teen whined.

"Why not?" Tony repeated, "Because, one, it would be breaking the judge's rulings, and two you've got schoolwork to do."

Peter stepped into his window, pulling off his mask. His hair stuck upwards, his brown curls waving in the breeze. "Fine..."

"Kiddo, you better get used to swinging 'round town in your Underoos."

Raising his eyebrows, Peter smirked, "What do you mean?" He was blushing, now too, but he didn't realise - instead he continued to look to his Dad for answers.

"Well, someone's gotta look out for the little guy, right? And, when I'm not here, who better to than you?"

"Okay, Dad, I'll be a friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man whilst you're gone," he joked.

Tony chuckled, "Good."

"Bye," Peter mumbled, as he started to get out of his suit.

"Bye, bud."

* * *

The bedroom door swung open, revealing a shocked Bucky Barnes. He had had a bag of KFC in his metal hand, and had dropped in once he saw the clothing the boy was dressed in.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed, looking at the red and blue suit.

"I... I can explain," Peter began, before being cut off by the older man.

"You're a superhero, kid, I get it. If my parents were Steve and Stark... I'd wanna be one, too."

Peter sat down on his bed, shuffling over when Bucky came over to him, sitting next to him. "So you're Spider-Man...You got powers, Pete?"

"Same sort of stuff as Pops. But I can climb, and I have this sixth sense. I call it my Spidey sense," Peter rambled, stopping when he saw the bemused expression on Bucky's face.

"How?"

"I was bitten by a spider... a radioactive spider."

"Oh..." Bucky pondered for a second, knowing full well what Spider-Man did every night, normally alongside Iron Man. He had ended up on one of those websites, the first time he had gone on the internet, that was called The Spider-Fan Huh and had read all about him. Despite him being a fairly new hero, he seemed to have a huge fan base.

"You can't tell Pops. He'll kill me," Peter begged, pulling at the man's shirt. "Please, Bucky, please."

"I won't... But you gotta promise me one thing, kiddo, you gotta stay safe. You hear me?"

"Crystal clear."

The pair sat in silence for a little longer, before Bucky broke it once more. "I'll leave the KFC in here, Peter. Your Pops will be back soon... he's on a mission. I'll... I'll be in the lounge if you need me."

"Okay..."

* * *

A shadow appeared outside of the apartment window, the shape of a man appearing against the brick wall. The dark figure was grasping a book - one that was the colour of blood - with a black star etched across the front of it.

"I have you now, Soldier," he hissed, his accent thick and his breathing quiet, "I have you now."


	15. Chapter 15

[Warnings from now: angst, creepy villains, sadness, torture, pain, hallucinations. Read at your own risk.]

The man stood outside of the apartment door, his face twisted in an evil grin. His eyes were wide and beady - a manic laughter seeing out of them. A look that haunted nightmares... a man who caused them for fun. He lifted his fist to the red door:

Knock. Knock.

Bucky stood up, hearing the thuds against the wooden door, and walked over to it. He slid the golden chain off the lock and cautiously opening it. "Hello?" he asked, "Do I know you?"

The man at the door smiled. He was clean shaven, his hair gelled to the right. "May I come in? It's about...," he looked over at the picture of Steve and a small child, "Peter."

Bucky stepped to the side, allowing the man to come into the room. "Come in... Is it serious?" He was worried. Worried for himself, for Steve, for Peter... What if it was to do with the court trials? What if it was to do with Spider-Man? It was probably just to do with school, he reassured himself, trying to regain his composure.

The man shut the door behind him, pulling a gun out from his jacket. "Now Soldier, Longing-"

"What? No. Leave. Go." Bucky stammered, flinching at the word. How could he have been so stupid? The man's Sokovian accent should of given it away - of course, he shouldn't assume... but in his case, he should always assume.

"Rusted, Furnace, Daybreak-" the man continued, smirking as the soldier placed his hands over his ears: his attempts to muffle out the sound failing. The words were tearing at his memories. The warm thoughts and feelings. His love towards Steve.

"Seventeen, Benign, Nine, Homecoming-"

"STOP!" Bucky screamed, lifting up the chess board and throwing it at the man, who dodged effortlessly out of the way. Surely Peter would hear them, by now? The boy was a light sleeper without his added powers, hopefully he'd come before it was too late.

"One... Freight Car. Soldier?"

Bucky's breathing calmed, his shouting seized. His eyes went empty, emotionless. He stood in ready position, looking at the man as if he was the only thing in the room."Ready to comply."

At that moment, Peter's bedroom door opened and, the boy tiptoed out of the room. He was wearing black tracksuit pants, and a Captain america tee, and was rubbing his eyes sheepishly. "Bucky, what was all that shouting? Who are you?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

The man smiled, holding out his hand towards the kid, "I'm a friend of your father... pleasure to meet you Peter." 

Peter reluctantly forced his hand into the greeting, regretting it simultaneously. The man - Zemo - had pulled him into a headlock, only just leaving him with enough space to breath. And even then, it wasn't a comfortable position to be in.

"Bucky!" Peter cried, struggling against Zemo's grip, "Why aren't you stopping him?" 

"Soldier," Zemo said, ignoring the boy's pleads and cries for help, "Secure the boy, make sure he doesn't escape before we return to the compound."

Bucky nodded his head. "Yes, Sir."

Peter glanced up at Bucky, his eyes wide in terror. Yet, they closed as soon as Zemo shot something into his skin - a needle, perhaps - and he fell limp to the floor.

* * *

Peter opened his eyes, his consciousness slowly returning to him. His wrists were being held by vibranium cuffs - which were chained to the concrete ceiling. And, his ankles were fastened in the same way, however instead of being connected to the ceiling, they were attached to the wall. 

The only source of light throughout the cell was coming from a thin gap, which was under what Peter presumed to be the door. It was a dim yellow, barely enough to illuminate the claustrophobic room: but it was there. It was a slimmer of hope in all the darkness surrounding him.

There was also a faint, red glow coming from the top corner of the cell - he realised - a camera probably. But apart from that, there was nothing but the black abyss.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice rough and hoarse. He wasn't exactly expecting an answer, he just wanted to see if it still worked.

Then, much to his surprise, the door - which he had assumed was there - creaked open, allowing a man, who was wearing a black suit, to walk in. "Ahh, Peter, so glad to see you're awake."

Peter glared at the man, his fists clenching as much as they could with the handcuffs on them. "Where am I, who are you?" he muttered, his breathing becoming shaky.

"Well, I can't tell you where we are... What would be the point of a secret if we told it to everyone? But, who I am... well, I can answer who we are," the man replied, his voice flooding the entirety of the cell. "We are Hydra."

Peter started to shiver uncontrollably, shaking his head in protest. "No, no, no... No," he mumbled. His Pops had told him all about Hydra: how they had experimented on people, how they wanted world control, how they had somehow brought his best friend - boyfriend, he corrected himself - back to life. 

"I gather you've heard about us?"

Peter didn't reply. He didn't have to, did he? There were no laws saying that a prisoner had to speak, had to comply. The fourteen year old was also rather hoping it had been rhetorical: the only comeback he had was sure to end up with him serving some sort of punishment.

"And," the man continued, "I'm sure you've already met our most valued asset. He's been away from his home far too long."

Asset? What were they talking about? They mustn't mean, they couldn't mean, did they? As a lightbulb formed in Peter's brain, Bucky Barnes walked in and stood beside the man.

"Bucky?" croaked Peter, who was yet to notice the man's empty eyes, and expressionless face. He got no answer: the man seemed to be in a daydream-like state.

"Soldier, would you care to remove Peter's restraints?" the man asked, directing the order at Bucky.

"Yes, sir."

The brunet walked over to the teen, and swiftly removed the cuffs. Then he held firmly onto Peter's collar, his grip barely allowing the teen to breathe.

"Bucky, you don't have to do this," choked Peter, trying to get hold of his Pop's boyfriend's attention. He fidgeted but his attempts only left his feeling weaker and even tireder.

The man laughed, "You see, Peter, he does indeed have to do this. It's in his programming to follow his master's orders."

"Why do you want me here?" Peter shuddered. Humans can't have programming... can they?

"Finally, a good question. We need another asset. One far more young and impressionable. One like you."

Peter didn't know what to say. His Dad would have been great in a situation like this; his snarky comments always lit up the moment. Oh God, his Dad would be worried sick... if he knew Peter was missing. But he didn't... he wouldn't. All because Pops and Bucky had won the court case.

He might never see him again. And no one would ever no where he was, no one would ever be able to find him.

"Now, Soldier," said the man, eyes smiling at Bucky, "Take our newest recruit to the Dark Room."

The Dark Room? What the hell was the Dark Room? It didn't sound good to Peter but he couldn't escape from Bucky's grip: the metal arm already felt like it was choking his jugular.

"Yes, sir," Bucky repeated. Dragging Peter out of the door and down through a corridor.


	16. Chapter 16

Peter tried to cry for help but his screams were muffled by Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier's, metal arm. He could barely breathe. Every step he was forced to take caused a burning pain to shoot throughout his chest. They walked down so many corridors, which all had the same grey walls and white lights, that Peter was beginning to think that Bucky was making him trek through an entire labyrinth just to get to this 'room'. To be honest, he was impressed that his lungs hadn't burst by the time they reached the Dark Room.

The Dark Room wasn't just a room with an ominous adjective describing it... It was a room that made Peter's hairs stand on edge: and if it wasn't for the Soldier's firm grasp on him, he would have legged it by now. The room itself was dark, yet it wasn't empty, either. Instead of being a plain, old, dark abyss it just had to be filled with things that almost completely resembled torture devices. Actually, Peter was pretty sure they were torture devices.

"Sit down," the Soldier ordered Peter, his voice stern in a tone that made Peter freeze in fear. "I said: sit down!" the Soldier repeated, shoving the boy through the darkness, causing Peter's knees to buckle at the impact between his legs and the metal seat. 

Reluctantly, he sat down on the chair, knowing already that he would never be the winner of a fight between the two of them; the Winter Soldier was far too strong. And anyway, even if he could match the man's strength it was unlikely that he'd be the only line of defence between Peter and the door.

The Soldier lifted up Peter's right arm before hitting it down against the armrest. Then he pressed a button, which made a metal restraint wrap around the boy's arm. He did the same for the teen's other arm. The cuffs were tight around Peter's arms - not tight enough to be painful but enough to be extremely uncomfortable. Screw that; the metal digging into his skin was very painful.

Peter struggled against the restraints, letting a few tears slip down his face. But it didn't last for long... The Soldier was quick to forcefully push the boy's head back into the metal, holding it back as parts of the machine began to clasp around it. "Bucky I-" Peter pleaded, his words cut off by a rubber mouthguard that was shoved into his mouth.

The teen watched in horror as the man's metal hand landed upon a control panel. He tried to scream no, to tell Bu- the Soldier to stop but he couldn't. No sound came out. He was well and truly done for.

The next few minutes of his life lasted an eternity. His mind was burning, sweat was trickling down his pale face. Peter clung to every happy memory he could: his Pops teaching him how to ride a bike, his Dad and him playing with Dum-E, Clint and him having a prank war, Bruce teaching him about gamma radiation... He thought about all of it. Anything to block out the electricity that was burning through his body.

It still hurt, though. Even Spider-Man wasn't strong enough to dismiss pain. Yet, Peter knew this wouldn't break him - at least, it wouldn't break him for now. 

His ears were still ringing, when the Soldier hauled him out of the chair - minutes after the machine had been switched off. He had stood back and stared at Peter, as if admiring his handiwork, before removing the mouthpiece and dragging the boy to his feet. 

Peter began to open his mouth to make a quip - a trait of Tony's that had rubbed off on him, but shut it almost instantly. There was no point going through pain like that again... none at all. He felt the cold, metal hand grasp his pyjama tee's collar, and closed his eyes. He was shivering, shuddering and shaking: his teeth chattering as he held his breath, waiting for whatever would come next. "Move it," spat Bucky, kicking the back of Peter's shins. 

* * *

"Tony?" Steve asked, his voice cold. "Why are you phoning me?"

"My kid promised that he'd call me," Tony said pointedly. "You got a problem, Rogers?"

"None at all, Tony. I'll call Peter and Bucky, see what's wrong," Steve said smoothly, refusing to be aggravated by the matter.

Putting Tony on hold, Steve swiftly clicked onto Bucky's phone number. He waited for the dialling tone to end but it didn't. Instead he was left with the generic voicemail.

"Steve? What did they say?" 

"I didn't get a response... straight to voicemail."

"I'm cutting the Expo short, I'm coming round yours by tomorrow midday. You got that, Cap?"

"I am working under Fury's orders, right now, but I'm sure he'd understand."

* * *

Peter let go a sigh of relief, when he was thrown into a small room. Sure, it wasn't much - just a two by two cell, with unnaturally white walls and lights that burnt his eyes, but it was better than his previous accommodations.

There was a bed in the corner of the room, if you could call it a bed. It was more of a cot - a thin mattress secured to a metal frame, with only a sheet on top. A white sheet. In a pile, on the bed, were some clean clothes: a white polyester shirt, and some white, sports pants. However, there were no socks or shoes, and Peter soon realised that the ones he had worn before had been stripped from him.

He picked up the shirt, realising that they were going to want him to change - and that if he didn't, they wouldn't hesitate to force him. There were definitely cameras in the room, Peter knew that, and he was slightly embarrassed to get undressed in front of people (even if he couldn't actually see them). After all, he was a teenager. But the clothes were so soft compared to the sweaty, dirty and torn he was currently adorned in, so he decided to get it over and done with.

Now dressed and even more tired, Peter lay down on the bed: unable to sleep because of the harsh light glaring down at him. They - Hydra - were doing this for one of two reasons... a) they wanted him to suffer, or b) they were trying to make him sleep only when they wanted him to. As if on cue, the light switched off - submerging him in the

d a r k n e s s

They were trying to do something to him... but Peter wasn't quite sure what.


	17. Chapter 17

clickingkey-boards helped write the Steve and Tony scene so I could get this up in time.

Peter awoke to what he could vaguely identify as the sound of a light switch being flicked. His head was throbbing as if he was resting his head against a speaker. His restless sleep had only provided a brief solace to soothe his injuries, though he seemed to be making up for those hours without pain in those first few moments after waking up: the pain seared for several agonising moments before settling. He resisted the urge to curl up into a ball and sleep until the horrific ordeal was open, but he knew that he had probably been woken up for a reason.

His metabolism seemed to be finally taking his toll, as his insides felt as if his stomach was eating away at itself. There had to be food, he thought to himself, there just had to be. No place, no matter how horrid, had no food inside it. Fortunately, luck was on his side for seemingly the first time in hours, as his heightened senses picked up food that proved to be there. On a tray - a white tray, of course - was a glass of water and a bowl of soup.

Clambering out of the bed as eagerly as he would on Christmas day, Peter scampered across the room and crouched down beside the tray. Cautiously, as if fearing that it was a trick and would explode the second he touched it, Peter picked up the spoon and cautiously sipped at the soup. It was watery, bland, and bitty, but it tasted like the finest chocolates to his starved body. He couldn't fool himself into thinking it was chocolate for long, as it was freezing cold and couldn't warm his insides as chocolate would.

Eventually, he forgot that people could be watching and picked up the bowl, drinking directly from it until he had drained it entirely. The water was lukewarm and quite disgusting, but Peter still drank all of it until the glass was empty, not even thinking about how he may have to save the food and make it last.

Peter glanced around the room, and was soon to realise that his old clothes were gone. The last bit of home he had been able to cling to was gone. Even his watch, the one his Dad had given him for his most recent birthday (a rolex, which had been tinkered with repeatedly) was gone. He probably wouldn't get them back; there was no point in trying to 'look on the bright side of things' because nobody even knew he was here. No one except the man that his Pops has trusted. That he had trusted. That had brought this fate upon him.

The door opened, causing Peter to flinch back in fear of what was to come. There was a blond man stood there, one he hadn't seen before: but one he already knew not to trust. Everyone here was dangerous... even Bucky.

"Stand up."

The young teen did as he was told, forcing himself up off of the ground. He was slightly grateful to see something, or someone, other than the white walls that made up the room, but he knew that his gratitude wouldn't last for long. His knees were shaking, causing the rest of his body to tremble alongside them. His face was pale, and he was certain that everything that had happened yesterday would be a walk in the park compared to whatever would happen today.

"Arms out."

Peter once more obliged, stretching his hands out in front of him, and letting his gaze fall to the floor. The metal cuffs that were placed around his wrists gnawed into his skin. They dug into his skin and almost drew blood. After taking a deep breath, he asked bravely, "Where are you taking me?"

"Did I say you could talk?" the man spat, glaring at the small boy in front of him. Peter shook his head, not sure if the question was rhetorical or not. Regardless of that, he didn't want to risk speaking again. 

Backhanding Peter across the face, the blond scoffed, "Then don't." The fourteen-year-old brought his tied hands to his cheek. The hit had hurt: mostly from the shock of it, but the force stung too. He didn't cry, though; he didn't want to succumb to the weakness inside of him. He was Spider-Man... he had to be brave,

"Don't even think about crying, boy. You don't wanna know what'll happen if you do," the man said sharply, grabbing Peter's shirt collar - pulling him out of the room. 

Peter's feet skidded against the marble floor as he was led along a hallway. It didn't look like the same one that they had come through yesterday, meaning it hopefully didn't lead to another room filled with torture. But this was the same Hydra his Pops had fought against during the war, so that was very unlikely.

The blond pushed him in through a door to his right, and forced him onto a chair.

* * *

When Tony burst into Steve's house, it became apparent the man had been stress-painting. Not that Tony wasn't accustomed to this - he and Steve has been married for goodness sake, he knew all too well the abundance of paint that could find its way anywhere and everywhere when Steve went on a spree of anxiety-sketching. However, it was an excessive amount of art.

Sitting at the kitchen table was the man himself, rather haphazardly streaking his pencils across a piece of paper. Rolling his eyes and snorting, Tony picked up a discarded rubber and threw it at Steve's face. "Oi, Rogers? I'm here to find out where your crazy boyfriend has kidnapped my - sorry, our - son to."

"Bucky isn't crazy!" Steve blurted suddenly, eyes snapping up to lock with Tony's. It sounded as if he hadn't spoken for hours.

Wordlessly, Tony helped himself to a drink from the fridge and filled a glass of water for Steve. "Drink it," he ordered.

"I have drunk something," he protested.

"Which was?" Tony challenged.

Steve smiled weakly. "It may or may not have been paint water."

Once again, he rolled his eyes. "Right, what were we saying about your boyfriend?"

"He isn't crazy," Steve repeatedly. "He may have... the Winter Soldier, but he's not crazy."

"Provided I'm not totally misreading this situation, you're implying that it isn't Bucky but it could be the Winter Soldier?"

Steve nodded numbly. "Why are we automatically assuming that Peter's been kidnapped? That really says something about how much faith you have in me as a parent."

"I have as much faith in your parenting skills as I have in you not dying via drinking paint water," he deadpanned.


	18. Chapter 18

Again clickingkey-boards has helped out with this chapter. We all really owe it to her that I'm able to get this story out on time.

* * *

The chair was cold and uncomfortable, and left close to no room between Peter and the desk. Blondie - the nickname Peter had given to the man who had brought him here, was now attaching the boy's handcuffs to the metal table, being sure to leave no space for him to attempt to escape. It wasn't like he was going to try... he'd never make it.

After the chain from Peter's wrists to the desk was fastened, Blondie left the room - leaving Peter alone with another man... "Oh no," he whispered under his breath, realising who that man was.

Zemo.

"Oh yes," Zemo said calmly, his face twisted in an evil smile. He looked happy... too happy for regular day to life, and far too happy to be kidnapping enhanced teenagers. The man waited a moment before continuing, either trying to figure out what to say - or just stalling for dramatic effect. "Are your accommodations meeting your standards, asset?"

Peter's head snapped up to stare at Zemo, realising the question was directed at him as there was nobody else in the room. "I'm not your asset so don't call me that," he replied angrily, before letting his head hang towards the floor.

Zemo smirked at Peter's remark as he took a few steps towards the boy. His footsteps were slow and silent, just like a predator before it pounced on its prey. He came closer, and closer, until he was near enough that the kid could feel the man's breath on him. The man then placed his hand below the boy's chin, tilting it upright so the teen was looking him right in the eye. "Oh, but you are our asset, whether you like it or not."

The man kept his hand there, his eyes glimmering as the boy tried to shake his head away. Zemo's nails were digging into his skin, scratching him whenever he tried to move. "I will never do as you say," Peter hissed, finally gaining enough strength to pull his head back.

Laughing, the man took a few steps back. "Oh but you will do, my young актив/asset, you will do..."

* * *

"Fury said there could be a Hydra base here," Tony continued, in the middle of a long run-on explanation of the bases Peter could have been taken to. He was tapping the screen of Steve's laptop with the end of the paintbrush, gesturing to a point seemingly in the middle of nowhere. "It's only a maybe but it's close by and the best place to start. There have been no sightings of The Winter Soldier - and we know this because of social media goes crazy every single time - so they can't have gone far."

Steve nodded in understanding. "I see. That base they located a few weeks ago, is that still in operation or did we weed that out?"

Wringing his hands, Tony said, "Honestly, I'm not sure. Realistically, they couldn't have left the country in this short space of time, correct?"

"I'm sure your boyfriend would beep going through an airport metal detector, Rogers," Tony snapped, intending to be insulting.

Instead, Steve found it funny, chuckling behind his hand for several moments until he regained his composure. "Right, moment over... let's set off, shall we?"

Tony scowled at him. "Glad my son's kidnapping amuses you, Rogers."

Steve vanished from the room, probably to find his shield. Tony only realised his comment was mean when Steve walked past him again, muttering under his breath to himself, "He's my son too."

* * *

For a minute that seemed impossibly long, the room was quiet - not quite silent, just an unsettling kind of quiet. The only sound was of breathing: Zemo's calm, relaxed breaths and Peter's heavy and broken breaths, verging on hyperventilation.

"Now, my актив/asset you will do as I tell you to. Otherwise there may be some... painful consequences." 

Peter shook his head, determined that he could remain in control of his actions. He couldn't become like Bucky, just another mindless soldier that did exactly as ordered too. The outside world already seemed a distance memory - like when you envision school during the summer break... 

The cold, sharp point of a knife being dragged across his skin brought him back to reality. It didn't cut deeply, just enough to scar over. He moaned in pain: leaning back in his chair. He tried not to scream, to cry out in pain to the people who would do nothing but laugh at his current state. He couldn't show how scared he really was - it was a Stark trait; you have to put on an act around those you don't trust.

Peter braved himself as he watched the blade curve and turn on his skin, drawing out a symbol. It kept on going - the precision of the knife never failing, for what felt like hours. Time was really like that: it goes quick when you're having fun but when you're being tortured, and you just want to escape reality... it pauses. Freezes. And waits until the worst is over to continue.

"I will repeat myself, актив/asset, you will do as I say," said the man as he let the knife drop to the floor, ignoring the clang of metal against polished stone.


	19. Chapter 19

As always let's thank the wonderful clickingkey-boards for helping.

"The news is going ballistic," Tony commented casually, listening to Steve swear - and by swear, he means say words such as heck and gosh, and complain about how sticky the gears on his motorbike were.

"That's interesting," Steve grunted, envisioning the smug grin on Tony's face as he flew directly above him, watching him struggle like a pensioner trying to figure out how google works. "Couldn't have fixed this up for me, could you?"

"You were the one that was insistent on leaving right this moment," he said, dipping slightly lower so he could get a good recording of Steve's problem. In the back of his mind, he planned to show it to Peter when they found him - he could probably get a good laugh out of it.

After a few moments of silence, Steve managed to regain some control of the bike and overtake the van he'd been swearing at for the past ten minutes. "What's the news going 'ballistic' about?" he asked eventually.

"The fact Captain America and Iron Man are going on a mission together," he replied nonchalantly. "It's hilarious, you should check it out."

"Maybe later, jerk," he muttered. "Turn left."

"I know, I've got instructions inside my mask. I did make it."

Steve took one hand off the bike to make a rude gesture into the air. "This is how much I care, tincan!"

"Hate you too, Capsicle!" Tony quipped. "Kinda wished Howard hadn't helped you illegally go storm that base." He glanced across at Steve's confused face, and added, "Oh yeah, you can bet he was real proud of the fact that he had done something important for America's glorious Captain. Never shut up about it."

They were so busy throwing insults at each other that both of them forgot to turn left.

* * *

"You're an intelligent boy, aren't you, актив/asset? Do you know what this is a symbol of?" Zemo asked, pressing his hand down on the bleeding cut on Peter's arm. 

The young boy grit his teeth; the pain may have been bad but it wasn't... unbearable. At least it was nothing compared to what had happened the day before. However, the tension in his body lightened as Zemo removed his hand.

"I asked you a question, актив/asset."

Peter took a deep breath, before replying. "It's a Hydra... isn't it. It's from Greek mythology... it's a serpent-like monster, with many heads. If you cut off one of its heads-"

"Two more shall take its place," finished Zemo. "It's why our founders chose the name... our organisation can never die out. We have the strongest men. We have weapons and knowledge that Shield would die for. And they will... at our hands." 

"Y'know I'm not part of Hydra - right? I never will be. I won't. I... won't," said Peter, in a way that was more of a reassurance to himself than a response to the man. His eyes followed the man, who was now picking up a large book, the cover of which was blue and coated in dust.

"You're going to read this, актив/asset, you're going to read this and then repeat back to me everything it says."

Peter looked at the book in horror. "It's... it's gotta have at least five hundred pages... I can't memorise that. I'm not going to." The red hydra symbol which was etched onto the cover seemed to glow as he spoke.

Zemo grinned, placing his hand on Peter's mess of brown hair and combing his cold fingers through the curls. "Oh yes you are, актив/asset... oh yes you are."

* * *

"You said it was right here!" Tony exploded at Steve once he touched to the ground. "And it's not here!"

Steve backed up until his back was against a tree. "I thought it was! Maybe it's underground."

"Well, obviously!" Tony snapped, before taking a deep breath. "I'm stressed."

"So am I. I haven't been this stressed since the last time Peter ran off," Steve replied, a smile tugging at his lips.

Taking a deep breath, Tony stepped out of the suit. It was always strange to be out of suit while Steve was in his, it felt as if he was becoming an entirely different person. "When we were in the theme park?"

"Oh my gosh, we were panicking so much," Steve chuckled. "Then Pete comes back with ice cream on his face and a new toy in his hand."

It was a comfortable change. While they were by no means on good terms, it was almost nice to have a functioning conversation about their life together without any hard feelings.

"He still has that toy, you know. He left it with me, though," Tony replied, with some bitterness in his voice.

"I'll remind him to get it once we find him," Steve said, walking over to where his motorbike was. He barely made it two feet before catching his foot on a root and falling onto his knees.

Tony rushed over in his suit but not to help Steve up. Instead, he went down on one knee and listened attentively.

Steve pulled a face. "What are you doing, tin man?"

As if he was a persistent fly, Tony swatted him away. "Go over there. Take a running jump and land here."

Not bothering to question why, Steve did as he was asked. This time, he realised what Tony was so interested in. The ground was making a hollow sound.

"So it is here..." Tony breathed.

"I told you so, didn't I?"

"Oh shut up, Capsicle!"

* * *

Peter finished the book a few hours later, his eyes stinging as the final words made their way into his mind. He knew he had a somewhat decent memory, but he wasn't sure he'd call it photographic. However at that instance, he hoped he was just being modest.

"Finally done, are we, актив/asset? It's taken you long enough," Zemo stayed roughly, "In future I hope you complete orders quickly."

"I'm not your soldier... you can't make me do anything. And anyway, I'm fourteen; how could I read a book like this in any less time?"

"You're brave to make comments like that, boy... very brave indeed."


	20. Chapter 20

Dragging the teen to his feet, Zemo detached the chain that bound Peter to the table, and threw him against a wall. "Do you really want to test my patience, актив/asset?"

"Yes," Peter spat, working up all of his courage to rebel. He couldn't let them win. He wouldn't... He was Spider-Man, he was a hero. "You won't kill me. I know that. You need me alive," he added bravely.

Grinning, Zemo pulled out a black pistol from his side. "You're right, we won't kill you. But that doesn't stop us from having a little fun with you - does it?"

Fun? That word didn't seem great coming from Zemo's mouth. In fact, nothing he said ever seemed worth celebrating. 

He aimed the gun at Peter's shoulder, before continuing: "Any last words, Peter Stark-Rogers?"

Peter stared back blankly. "You just said you weren't going to kill me."

"Oh, we're not going to kill..." he pressed the gun against Peter's chest, "you. We're just going to kill Peter Stark-Rogers."

"What-"

The teen was cut short by the gunshot. He had just been taken down by one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s preferred weapons. An Icer... or as the creator of them - Leo Fitz - liked to call them: Night Night Guns. They don't kill, they just knock you out. A better weapon for those who want to do right in the world, or for those who want to kidnap the son of two Avengers.

Zemo chuckled to himself as he injected a serum into Peter's arm. "Director will be proud of my efforts." He signalled for a blond to enter the room. "Take him back to his room... Now!"

* * *

He awoke to the white walls of the a room. Yet, he couldn't remember if he had been here before - or where he had been previously. He didn't even know what he looked like. And, he couldn't remember his own name.

"How are you, актив/asset?" asked the man, who he had just realised was sat on the chair opposite the bed. The man wore a dark suit, with a red emblem sewn into the sleeve. His hair was gelled to the right at the parting and glistened under the LED lighting.

"I... I don't remember," the boy stammered, unable to focus on anything in front of him. Instead his gaze drifted to the sheets of his bed - taking comfort in the blank canvas of white that was covering him. At least he knew that it had kept him warm the previous night; he had no idea what the man could do - even if he seemed to be rather concerned about him.

The man stood up, and began to walk over to the boy's side. Yet, as in a movement of equality, he sat down on the bed beside him: proving the boy's point that he was there to help. "You got injured, актив/asset... we're lucky you're still in one piece."

"It hurts," the teenager whimpered, rubbing his hands against his head, "It's like a part of my brain has been torn out... Like a piece of the puzzle is missing."

"Nothing's missing, актив/asset. But if you're scared, just remember Hydra is here for you. They will never let Captain America and Iron Man do anything to you ever again."

"C-Captain America... Iron Man... The names... they're familiar."

"They did this to you. They're the reason you can't remember." The man looked like he was trying to regain his composure as he added: "Are you sure you can't remember anything?"

The boy shook his head. All he could remember was everything that had happened after he had woken up. Nothing else. His mind was blank. And it was all Captain America and Iron Man's fault. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, актив/asset... Hydra will make everything okay."

"Right." 

* * *

A few hours had passed since the boy's conversation with the man. The brunet had been left alone inside the room... his room, and the plain canvas of a chamber had started to drive him insane. Why was everything so clean and white? Why couldn't there been a touch of colour? How hard would it be for this Hydra to do a paint job? 

"They're lying to you, you know."

"What?" asked the boy, turning his head towards the source of the sound. There had been nobody else in the room before, he was certain of that.

"Hydra being the good guys. It's not true. They tried to kill both your parents countless times. They probably even killed your birth ones."

Shaking his head in disbelief and confusion, the boy queried, "Who are you? How... How did you get in here?"

The voice's owner, a boy that looked roughly his height and age replied, "The name's Parker. Peter Parker." Then, after looking at the other's confused stares added, "Sorry, I've always wanted to do that. It's from a movie."

"How did you get in here?"

"I was always in here. I never left. But they're trying to get rid of me. They think they've succeeded as well. They won't. The bad guys never win."

"You're bad at answering questions... Peter."

"And you're bad at asking them."

"Well sorry, it's not my fault that I haven't got much experience asking them. I can only remember today thanks to-"

"Hydra," Peter interjected.

"What? No. The Avengers. They're the ones that injured me so much I was better off without the thoughts," the boy countered.

"This is going to be a long day," Peter muttered to himself.


	21. Chapter 21

As a pair, Iron Man and Captain America were the epitome of stealth and organisation. They infiltrated the base with next to no trouble, and were soon creeping through the halls and listening out for any noise. The noise came in the form of Steve dropping his shield on the metal floor.

It rolled in a circle like a metal lid dropped on the ground, making a booming noise on impact and grating noisily for several seconds before Steve put his foot on it.

"Be quiet!" Tony hissed, jabbing Steve in the gut with his elbow. "Or I'll be the one fighting you instead of a Hydra agent!"

"What are you going to do, elbow me in the chest?" Steve asked with a chuckle in his voice, not particularly trying to get a rise out of the other man but trying to hide the nervousness that was slowly setting into his gut: his Bucky was gone, gone into the Winter Soldier, and had taken Peter. Peter, his and Tony's son - it was too terrifying to dwell on for too long.

"Say goodbye to your kneecaps, motherfucker," he replied with a deadly serious face.

Steve snorted with laughter. "I had a sudden image of you trying to take down Loki by kicking him in the knees."

"Well he did try to stab me in the chest but he missed. I'm better than him."

"Your arc reactor was in the way!"

"Technicalities, technicalities," Tony dismissed. "I'll do you one better: now I'm picturing you trying to take down Loki by hitting him in the face with your shield."

* * *

"They hurt you. Real bad," Peter informed the boy, their eyes locked together. The boy was panicking: he had only known this reality for a small amount of time but it was slowly being torn apart... and he didn't like that. It may have been made up of lies but it was a comfort of knowledge - false knowledge, but knowledge all the same. 

"They didn't," the boy insisted, closing his eyes in pain. Why didn't this Parker boy understand that Hydra had been good to him? He still didn't understand how he'd even entered the room. Yet he was here. 

"Trust me... they did."

The door slid open, and the man - who had been talking to the boy before, walked in. "Stand up, актив/asset," the older man barked, coming closer towards the bed. As the boy's eyes trailed from the doorway back to where Peter had previously been standing, he noticed the teen had vanished. Disappeared. As quickly as he had arrived, he had gone.

The boy, now unsure of what to think, hesitated before getting up. His knees almost buckling under the sudden movement. "Who was he?"

Glancing at the boy in confusion, the man uttered, "Who was who? There was nobody else in here."   
His accent was heavy, and he spat as he spoke the words to the teen. He raised his hand and threw it down on the boy's shoulder - causing him to yelp in pain. "Do not talk out of turn. You are a weapon, a very valuable one... One that we do not want giving away important intel to Shield. Understand?"

The boy nodded.

"Good."

The sound of siren blaring suddenly flooded the room. Something bad was happening. Something awful. The boy wasn't too sure what it was - but alarms were bad. Fire alarms, school alarms, all alarms... none of them led to good.

The man gently pushed the boy towards the bed, "Stay in here, актив/asset, you'll be safe." Then he headed out of the room - locking the door behind him.

"You'll be safe because that's your folks coming to rescue you," Peter whispered, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder.

The boy knew it was there, but he couldn't physically feel it. It was an abstract feeling, One you couldn't quite describe if you tried. "I don't know what you're talking about. Everything you've said to me has been a lie. You're trying to turn me against them. It won't work, though. It won't."

Peter shook his head. "They've turned you against yourself. Not the other way round. I swear it. They're the bad guys."

"I don't... I don't believe you," he stuttered, staring at the white wall in front of him. His tears were starting to water; he couldn't let Peter know he had gotten to him. "But, I recognise you."

"You'll remember eventually."

Peter pulled his hand away from the boy, and when the boy looked back at the teen... he was gone. The words stuck, though. What would he remember? When?

* * *

"Oh shit!" Tony piped, when the alarm began to tone. "And this is why you don't ask for a shield. Who thought it would be a good idea for you to have a shield?"

"Howard..."

"Should've known. He was the mastermind of bad ideas. One of them being-"

Steve stopped him, interjecting, "Shut up, Tony. We need to find Peter - if he's here, before they move him." 

So the pair headed down the the hallway, running straight into Zemo himself. "Mr Stark, Mr Rogers... How wonderful it is to find you down in the hallways of my home. We've been expecting you. Obviously, you took a little longer than we might have hoped. We had to resort to some... creative uses for your son."

"What in Satan's name have you done to him? If you hurt my kid-" started Tony, who began to walk over to Zemo, only to be held back by his ex-husband.

"Where is he?"

Zemo pointed to a screen, and then to the door, before answering Steve's question. "He's in there. But I wouldn't go in there right now."

"Why not?" Tony asked through gritted teeth. This Hydra guy really was infuriating.

As in response to his question, Peter - and the many other things were swiftly flung to the ceiling. The gravity in the room. Gone. "It's remarkable what a reliable source of mining labour will get you, when you lend it out to a billionaire."

"Gravitonium..." whispered Tony, now understanding everything that was happening. "You helped Ian Quinn?"

"You didn't think the fool could have done it all himself, did you?" Zemo queried, his tone being way too light for the situation. "We prided ourselves with being close with many strong organisations such as the Rising Tide. It was a small price to pay for weapons such as that."

"You're going to pay for this, y'know. He's an innocent kid, why'd you even think about laying a finger on him?"

"They're Hydra..." Tony cut in, "It's what they do."

Zemo responded with a sly grin. "He's not exactly innocent though, is he? The powers for one, they increase his healing metabolism."

"What powers? You didn't repeat the Winter Soldier experiment. Did you?"

"He had these powers before he came here. Did he not tell you this?"

Tony g u l p e d.

"You knew. Didn't you, Stark?"

"Yep."

"And I'm afraid as this very happy moment carries out, I'm going to be leaving you." An explosion rattled through the room, smoke clouding the two Avengers' Vision. When it had cleared, Zemo was gone.

"Damn it."

"He's gone."

"Yeah, I know."


	22. Chapter 22

The Winter Soldier looked to his supervising officer, his face as emotionless as always, and waited for an order. Usually when the sirens went off, he was dragged out to fight: or he was placed back under cyro, to wait for another day. However, this time he had been stationed to wait. No exact orders. Just to wait for Zemo.

"Coms are down in the main sector. Hyde says Zemo's dead," one of the agents stated, occasionally staring at the Soldier before throwing his glance to the other side of the room. 

"Take the Soldier down to the bunker in Benton, if Shield have found it... head south."

"Yes, Sir."

* * *

The world began to spin round as the boy was thrown against the ceiling. What was happening? Was he going crazy? His head hurt badly - really badly, and now the spinning was turning into dizziness.

Steve? His Pops? Is that what he called him. The tall, handsome and muscular man who forced him to eat his greens before having desert. And Tony? His Dad? The brunet who was only a tiny bit taller than the boy himself. The one who always smelt like oil yet his designer clothes were always spotless.

Spider-Boy, or was it Spider-Kid? Wait. No. Spider-Man, that was it! A radioactive spider bite at a place named Oscorp. He was Spider-Man. But that couldn't be his real name. Peter. He was sure of it by now, his name was Peter. Peter Stark-Rogers. He was a superhero, and he would make it out of here alive.

Where was he then? Hydra, those were the bad guys, right? The same people who had infiltrated the Nazis back in the war - the one his Pops had fought in. God, his Pops really was old. This must be one of their bunkers. He could recall the team, his family, going about destroying as many as possible in the last few years. They stopped after the Ultron and Sokovia incident. He had to get out. And soon.

The force that had turned the ceiling into the floor suddenly weakened, causing Peter to plummet to the ground. "Oh great," he muttered to himself just before his head smashed against the floor.

He watched as the door began to open, but he couldn't keep his eyes open. Something was making them flicker shut, causing them to feel extremely heavy. His head was pounding, aching, it felt like his brain was shaking. He had to stay... he had to... he had... everything faded out of his vision.

Opening the door in a heat of the moment hurry, Tony and Steve ran into the room. They were faster than any other lifeform on Earth - even faster than Quicksilver, Wanda's brother... the one who had died saving Barton, and that kid. The bags under both of their eyes were showing, however at this moment they felt more awake than they had in awhile. 

"Peter!" Steve shouted, throwing the wreckage of furniture to the side, kneeling down beside the small frame of his son. 

Tony fell to his knees beside the blond, shaking his head in denial. "Pete, kiddo, this isn't your time to go. You've gotta wake up." His voice began to shake, his eyes watering as he stammered, "You've gotta wake up, right now."

The boy's curly, brown hair was laced in dust and bits of dry paint: cuts and bruises were slowly forming across his face. His eyes were closed, making him appear to be sleeping - the only sign he wasn't dead being the faint movement of his chest. His white shirt was stained in blood, his own blood, and it was turning a shade of reddy-brown. Every few seconds, the teen would whimper in his unconscious state, before falling back to the darkness.

"Wake up, buddy, wake up." Tony's voice was straining; the billionaire was in pain. He couldn't watch his son hurt like this. They needed to get him back to the Tower. He needed private treatment, from a doctor who knew what they were doing. Not from some state hospital - that just wouldn't do for his kid.

"He's... he's, we just need to get him out of here," Steve stuttered, picking up his son, and carrying him in a bridal hold. He stood up, indicating for his ex husband to follow.

"For once I agree with you, Cap."

* * *

Tony and Steve were sat opposite the bed that Peter was laying in. He was asleep, but not just out of exhaustion. He had fallen into a coma. The doctor had said he'd wake up, eventually. That for some reason his injuries had healed extremely quickly, and that he'd probably be up in no time.

Except it had been a week already... and Tony and Steve growing nervous. Peter had been through a lot - S.H.I.E.L.D. had found the files and documents of what Hydra had done to him, and all of it had disgusted them.

There was no sight of Bucky. He had vanished along with the remainder of Hydra agents. Steve and Tony had focused on the most important thing in their lives: Peter, and left the base unharmed.

Things were looking down for both Stark and Rogers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is where part one ends...


	23. Chapter 23

Six months... It had been roughly six months since Tony had last heard his precious baby speak. Six months since he had last watched him walk or run. Six months since they had last gone out patrolling as Spider-Man and Iron Man together.

Peter had been in a coma since late last year? And had made no sign of waking up. The doctors had all said that there was still a chance, a small slither of hope, he would wake up - he able to leave the constantly silent room. But by now, all of Tony's and Steve's faith had disappeared; their frequent checks in on Peter becoming further and further apart.

The two were a lot closer than prior to Peter's rescue. Both had hid away their disagreements, ready to prove that Peter was more important than their divorcement.

At this exact moment, 5:47pm June 3rd 2016, Tony was sat on the chair beside Peter's bed: a book in his hands. He was there purely because there was nowhere else he could be: Dum-E was trying to clear up his lab, emphasise on the trying, and the rest of the team were being secretive - mainly his ex, and his boyfriend.

Steve had been looking for Bucky but they hadn't been successful, even with the help from Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff.

"D-dad?"

Tony looked up from his book, his conscience questioning whether or not he had imagined the faint voice. He glanced down at Peter, and smiled at the sight of his son's fluttering eyes. "Pete?" he said softly, his hand brushing across the boy's hair, "Bud... can you hear me?"

"Dad... I - Me, but... they... I.... I'm sorry," he stammered, his body collapsing against the mattress as he tried to sit upright.

"Woah! Easy, tiger...." Tony exclaimed sarcastically, "We don't want you getting even more injured - do we?" He pulled his hand away from the kid's hair, and added, "Fri, tell Steve to get up here now. Say Pete's awake."

"Right away, Sir."

"No," protested Peter, his smile fading, "But not Bucky. He... He went bad, Dad, he let them hurt me."

"I know, it's okay. Bucky isn't here..." Tony mumbled, reassuring himself more than his son. He needn't make effort to calm him down because Steve had just walked into the room... alone.

"Pops?" Peter whispered, trying to reach Steve, stretching his hand out as far as possible. Steve moves over to Peter's side.

"Yeah, buddy?" Steve responded, in a manner that would have fooled anyone into thinking it had only been an hour since the two had last spoken.

"How long has it been?"

"Six months, kiddo, that's how long you were out..." Steve said slowly, unsure of how Peter was going to take it.

"Six m-" Peter whispered, "That's a long time." He grinned, his voice getting louder, "For a second there, I thought it had been a few years. I mean, Dad, your hair really is going grey."

"You're lucky you are still technically injured, otherwise I might have had to come over there and tickled you, Mister," Tony replied. He raised his hands, miming the movements in jest.

Cleaning his throat, Steve added, "How do you feel, Pete?"

"I'm okay... I think I'm gonna sleep with all my old toys - in my room, if that's okay with you... but apart from that I'm fine."

"Good..."


	24. Chapter 24

Peter squirmed in his sleep, pushing the mountain of plushies off from his bed. His old nightlight (one of Tony's previous arc reactors, which had had been recycled and repurposed into a gift for his son) was switched off for the first time in years. He usually couldn't sleep in the darkness, however after the incident with Hydra, the light was starting to make his night terrors worse.

Tony tiptoed into the room, leaving the door wide enough for a small ray of light to appear on the bed. Luckily, it wasn't in Peter's eyes as the young boy was sure to wake up at the first sign of a glimmer or a glow. The brunet let out a deep breath, which he didn't even know he was holding, as Peter rolled over onto his side. The teen had been asleep ever since they let him out of the medical ward. Despite his many months asleep, he was still extremely worn out. 

Sitting down on the navy beanbag beside the boy's bed, Tony yawned. His sleeping schedule had never been great but Peter's accident had only made it worse. Now that he was out of the coma, the genius would finally be able to get a peaceful night of sleep. He leant his head back against the wall, careful not knock it against any of the shelves, and closed his eyes... drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

When he awoke, Peter was also beginning to stir: with the boy occasionally sitting upright and rubbing his eyes, before lying back down. "Morning, Pete," the billionaire said softly, pulling himself up from the seat. 

"D-dad... m-morning," slurred the young boy, his eyes blinking rapidly. "What time is it?" he added, after he felt slightly more awake. His brown curls were sticking out all over the place, and his Star Wars: The Clone Wars pyjama shirt was drenched in sweat.

Tony glanced down at his Rolex before replying with a simple, "Nine thirty." This was the time Tony usually woke up at, unless of course Peter had school - which wasn't a problem now, however the teenager seemed distraught. You see, Peter wasn't one of those 'imma stay up all night on tumblr and wake up at eleven' kids. Sure, he had stayed out pretty late on the few occasions him and his Dad had gone out patrolling: but that was different. He would always wake up early. He had alarms set from 5:30am every morning, and stuck to them every single day.

"You should've woken me," Peter exclaimed, pretending to be annoyed at his father. Yet, the teen was partially relieved by his late awakening; he did feel a little better after a long night's rest. He began pushing his Doctor Who duvet off of himself, when he realised all of his plushies had began to fall with it onto the floor.

"It's fine, kiddo, we can pick them up later," Tony reassured his son, picking up the Iron Man build-a-bear and laughing. "You actually kept this thing?"

"It's you... Of course I'd keep it, Dad."

That made Tony's heart shatter into a million pieces... Why was his son so precious? He and Steve had made an amazing decision in deciding to adopt him. Talking about Steve... the old man had said he needed to discuss some stuff with him over lunch. "You have two options today, Petey. You can come to lunch with me and your Pops, or you can stay here at the Tower with Vis and Wanda."

"Does this lunch have to happen?" whispered Peter, his tone sounding very serious, and making Tony struggle not to laugh. His eyes were wide with a mix of fear and terror - something a parent never wanted to see in their child.

"I'm 'fraid so, bud."

Surprisingly, Peter then said, "I'll come to lunch, but I want to sit next to you."

"Of course, Spiderling."

* * *

Tony strode into the restaurant, Peter's hands clasped around his own. The boy was shaking - his nerves getting the better of him. He didn't quite believe his Pops that Bucky was hone. What if the man tried to kidnap him again?

"You alright, buddy?" the philanthropist asked Peter, stroking the boy's hair out of his eyes. He could see Steve sat down at the booth in the far corner, a glass of alcohol placed in front of him.

"Yeah..." lied Peter, his answer not at all convincing enough to comfort Tony. They walked over to the table and sat down opposite them. "H-hi Pops..."

"Hey, Peter, how are you?" Steve said, trying to start a conversation. After a few seconds of silence, Tony nudged the boy's shoulder, hoping to get his attention.

"What? Oh, I'm okay..."

He didn't look okay. He was trembling. There was sweat rolling down his face. His breathing was shaky. Steve was positive he was lying. "How have you been after all-"

"Just don't talk about it," Tony said, glaring at the soldier as he combed his fingers through Peter's hair. "If this is what you wanted to discuss then we're leaving."

The man began to stand up, before being interrupted by Steve. "Wait. Tony. I need to say something else. Avengers related."

"If it's Avengers related, why is it just us two? Don't you need the whole team for this kinda stuff?" 

"I wanted to tell you first... For Peter's sake."

Tony sat back down, letting Peter lean against him. "What is it, Rogers?" he hissed, "You haven't gone and ratted him out to Shield have you? Or the UN? For once in your god damn life don't be such a patriot. You don't have to tell them everything."

Steve was shocked at his ex's outbreak. "I haven't told them anything... not yet. But we won't have a choice soon. And it's not entirely my fault." The blond pushed a document across the table and towards Tony.

The brunet picked it up, quickly skimming through a few of the pages. "The Sokovia Accords? They want the team to sign it? All of us? They want us to work for them and them alone..?"

Nodding, Steve replied, "I'm afraid so. I don't agree with it. I think we should be able to save whoever needs saving, not whoever the UN deem worthy."

"I think it's a good idea."

"You've barely read it!"

"The UN are already pissed at me. They've wanted this for ages... and this could be good for me. I need to take a break from superheroing and do some stuff for Stark Industries."

"I don't believe you..."

Tony didn't respond to the Captain. Instead, he stood up - Peter copying him, and they walked out of the restaurant before ordering anything. "Come on, Peter, we're going."


	25. Chapter 25

Tony shook his head, placing his hands over his eyes, as Peter said, "What was Pops talking 'bout? I'm not an Avenger. How does it affect me?"

"I'm not sure, bud... I'm not sure." The billionaire looked out of the car window, watching the buildings disappear whilst Happy drove them back to the Tower. A few more minutes of silence followed before Tony finally asked, "What do you want for your birthday this year, kiddo?"

"That's not for- Oh... I don't know.... haven't really thought about it," Peter mumbled, realising that his birthday was a whole lot closer than it felt. This whole 'I've been asleep for half a year' thing was strange and unnerving to him. He couldn't imagine how waking up in the future - like his Pops, would have felt. "I guess whatever I said I wanted for Christmas..."

Christmas. That had been so long ago for Tony, yet for Peter it had never came. It had been the worse holiday in the history of winters for the philanthropist. Not the first without family, just the first where he was missing the people he loved. "Right..." the man said quickly, trying to move on from the current topic: it was just a little too awkward to discuss right now, "What about what you want for lunch?"

Peter threw a quick glance at his father before smiling and saying, "KFC? I know you don't like that kind of food, but I was kidnapped... and tortured"

Tony glared at his son, trying not to panic. That other kid- Harley he swiftly remembered, the one who had helped him out when everyone thought he was dead: he had been great at bringing anxiety attacks upon him. Hell, that kid was probably the biggest stress inducer there was! His own son was nearly as bad. "Peter..."

"And I was in a coma for six months," Peter stated calmly. However the young boy wasn't feeling very calm, his mind was taking him back to his time with Hydra. The worst time of his life. Yet he really wanted to go to KFC, Tony never let them go there, the billionaire always made them eat out at fancy restaurants, or stay at home.

"Stop! Peter, alright? I can't hear this stuff without... without feeling like this was all my fault. If it weren't for me having a go at Steve, we wouldn't have gone our own separate ways. You'd have never stayed there. Hydra would never have found you," the man choked, rubbing his eyes to hide the tears. "We can go to KFC... for you, buddy... okay?"

"Thanks, Dad," the boy whispered, leaning against his father's shoulder. "I don't blame you. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything. It was all Mister Criminal's fault."

Tony raised an eyebrow at his son's nickname for Zemo. "Mister Criminal? You've got heart, kiddo. You really see the best in people. Even when they are insane psychopaths."

Peter smirked. He was back with his dad, and everything was going great.

What could go wrong?

Other than all that nonsense with the Sokovia Accords...

But that wouldn't lead to anything...

Right?

* * *

Steve thought back to a conversation he and Bucky had had prior to everything. And by everything, he meant the incident of his son being kidnapped.

"Steve..." Bucky mumbled, placing his pint of beer back down on the table. He stared at the foaming liquid before continuing to speak. "I killed Howard."

"You what?" laughed Steve, almost choking on his drink. He glanced across at the brunet, surveying his expression. It was solemn, but sad, emotionless, yet guilty. He wasn't sure if he had heard right, though; Bucky couldn't have possibly killed the genius that both had grown to love (or maybe just tolerate) during the war. 

Bucky shook his head. "I killed him, and his wife - Maria, I think. They were my mission. I never fail a mission..." he exclaimed, turning to face away from his boyfriend. He couldn't bring himself to look at the blond. He would feel too guilty. Too ashamed.

"You did fail one... you didn't kill me. You saved me." Steve blinked, holding back the tears. He could picture the moment. He could replay it through his mind. He was injured - in agony, even. Bucky was there, about to land the killing blow. But he hesitated. He didn't kill him. He just watched as the ground gave way and Steve plummeted. Steve could still remember the wave of memories that flooded his pal's face as he realised who he was fighting. As he realised who his mission was.

"That was different. I didn't exactly like Howard, did I, punk?"

Steve raised his eyebrows. He then exhaled before saying, "So you... The Winter Soldier killed Tony's dad?"

"Yes."

"Right... that's, we should tell Tony."

Bucky placed his hand onto Steve's, making sure to gain his partner's attention. "No. He already hates me for just being your boyfriend. He'd kill me, Steve."

Knowing that was true, Steve calmly replied, "Fine..." Then, muttered to himself, "I knew it wasn't an accident but I never imagined it was you."

* * *

Later that evening, Steve assembled the team. They were all there; Ross had said they had to be. Well everyone was there except Clint. The archer had retired - something about needing to be with his family, and not constantly risking his life. "So some of you know why you are here, some of you don't," the General began. He was the only person not sat down.

"What is it?" Wanda piped, pointing to the screen showing documents and warfare plans, as she rested her head on Vision's shoulder, "We should be doing something better than this. We're not Hydra. We don't plan battles against others."

Nat shook her head. "She's right. If this a planned attack it reminds me too much of my... my previous jobs."

"That is not what this meeting is about, Agent Romanoff," Ross declared, silencing the assassin. "As you all know, you - The Avengers, are the saviours of peace. You protect everyone."

"Go on," Tony said, whilst tapping his feet rhythmically against the floor. He started to click a pen, but was stopped by the glare his Captain sent towards him.

Ross sighed. "But with you also comes death. Tragedy. Disaster. Hundreds of people die, and there are thousands of casualties."

"And how many more people do we save?" Sam snapped, leaning back in his seat. "I understand that some lives are lost. But without us there would be no survivors. None!"

"Mister Wilson, if you would please listen for a minute... For the past 4 years, you operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That's an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution. The Sokovia Accords. Approved by one hundred and seventeen countries. It states, that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they'll operate under the supervision of a United Nations Panel, only when and if that Panel deems it necessary."


	26. Chapter 26

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," Steve said, pausing for a moment. "I feel we've done that."

"Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?"

Steve tilted his head to look up at Ross, the ocean in his eyes swirling as if a storm was about to brew. He made eye contact with the General, doing his upmost best not to stand up and let him have it. Yet, before he could reply to the question Ross added, "If I misplaced a couple of thirty megaton nukes, you can be sure there'd be consequences."

Tony brought his left hand to his face, holding it firmly with his other. He was shaking. Steve was going to go against him. He was going to argue against this new law. But, he couldn't do that... could he? He was meant to be America's golden boy: the one and only Star Spangled Man. The genius exhaled quietly, crossing his fingers that Steve would make the right decision.

Ross continued. "Compromise. Reassurance. That's how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground." 

Rhodey tapped his hand on the pile of documents that was in front of him. He didn't seem impressed. However, he looked substantially calmer than both Steve and Nat. "So... there are contingencies?"

Ross smiled. "Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the accords." Steve turned his head to face Tony, clearly outraged. The billionaire stayed staring at the ground, swivelling his shoes, until Steve coughed to get his attention. The two leaders made eye contact, before the General added, "To talk it over."

Stretching out her arms, the assassin got Ross' attention just as he began to exit the room. "And if we come to a decision you don't like?" she asked.

"Then you retire..."

The assassin bit her lip, using all her training to keep her cool. The Avengers couldn't retire. Not when the world was just getting even more dangerous. Not right now. They would retire when they were sure Earth was safe, protected. Even if that meant going against the United Nations, and anyway it wasn't like Natasha hasn't broken the law before.

Ross eventually left, leaving the room full of heroes- who happened to all have different ideas on whether it was right or wrong. Sam stood up, and exclaimed that, "That Ross guy's an idiot. How can the world be safe if the Avengers ain't here to save it?"

Rhodey got out of his seat, standing opposite the Falcon. He shook his head in disbelief. "Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honour, which is one more than you have."

"So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" Sam asked, ready to fight the man in front of him. Tony rolled his eyes, glad he couldn't actually see what was happening. He was sat on the sofa facing the over way; his head was in his hands.

"117 countries want to sign this! 117, Sam, and you're just like," Rhodey made his voice raise an octave, "No, that's cool. We got it"?

"How long are you going to play both sides?" Sam cut in. 

Vision, noticing the tension, quickly made the decision to break up the quarrel. "I have an equation," he stated, nonchalantly.

Sam shook his head, trying to cover his smirk. "Oh, this will clear it up."

Vision ignored him. "In the eight years since Mr Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And, during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate."

Steve glanced at the bot from over the documents he was currently skimming through. "Are you saying it's our fault?" He sounded worried. Concerned. Guilty. The soldier didn't know whether it was their fault. What if it was their fault Hydra has resurfaced? What if it was their fault Loki had decided to come to Earth? He knew it was definitely someone's fault that a robot had tried to kill everyone.

"I'm saying there may be a causality." Vision paused, not for breath- as he didn't actually need to take any, but for dramatic effect. "Our very strength invites challenge; challenge invites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight... Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand."

Rhodey looked at Sam. "Boom!"

The billionaire continued to rub his head against his hands, hiding away from the growing conflict within the team. Natasha picked up on it, "Tony?" The man looked up see the assassin smiling at him. "You were being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal. 

Steve cut in, "It's because he's already made up his mind."

"Boy, you know me so well," Tony replied sarcastically. Of course Steve didn't want the team to know that they had already discussed it. He wanted it to seem like he was just good at reading people... which he was not, let's just clarify. He wanted to seem like the good guy in all this darkness.

Tony shuffled around on his seat, rubbing his head. "Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache." He stood up, walking over to the small (Tony Stark's idea of small, anyway) kitchen area in the room. "That's what's going on, Cap." He began to make himself a cup of coffee. "It's just pain. It's discomfort." He then looked into the sink. "Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?" The genius turned around, the kettle in his grasp, as he walked back towards a table nearer the rest of the group. "Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" 

He placed the cup and kettle on the table. Then, whilst quickly turning on one of his holograms, he said, "Oh that's Charles Spencer, by the way. He's a great kid." Steve stared at the picture of the teen in confusion. "Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA. He had a floor level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul." Nat frowned. She was also worried with where the genius was going with this.

"Before he parked it behind a desk," Tony picked up the kettle and slammed it against the table. "See the world... Maybe be of service." Sam stood there, his body tensing as he forced himself not to shiver. "Charlie didn't want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which I what I would do. He didn't go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where. Sokovia."

Standing still in absolute silence, Rhodey blinked. He was blinking in a sign of recognition to what Spencer had gone. He felt bad, guilty. He knew why Tony wanted to go against the Accords, and he wanted to too. Wanda opened her mouth to speak but Stark beat her to it.

"He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. I mean, we won't know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass." Steve felt a tear roll down his face, which he swiftly destroyed evidence of by rubbing it away as quickly as it came. Tony tried to regain his composure, so he did what helped him best- par from alcohol, and drunk a large gulp of his coffee.

"There's no decision making process here." He moved over, so that he was stood in front of the whole team, and cross his arms. "We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys."

"Tony," Steve said firmly, relieved to have finally been able to put a word in. "Someone dies on your watch, you don't give up."

"Who said we're giving up?"

Steve faced the window, making sure he could still see his ex in the reflection. The man was quivering. He was a wreck. "We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions. These documents just shift the blame."

"I'm sorry, Steve," said Rhodey, "That is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we are talking about." The Captain shook his head in disbelief, as the War Machine continued. "It's not the World Security Council, it's not Shield, it's not Hydra."

"No, but it's run by people with agendas. And, agendas change."

Tony threw his blazer to the floor. "That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realised what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing."

"Tony!" Steve exclaimed, "You chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our rights to choose... What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go and they don't let us! We may not be perfect but the safest hands are still our own."

Tony met his ex's eyes. The blue in Steve's was turning teal, going greener than Tony had ever seen. The billionaire's own eyes were wide and teary. "If we don't do this now, Steve, its gonna be done to us later. That's the fact. That won't be pretty."

"You're saying they'll come for me?" Wanda asked. Vision placed his hand over hers.

"We would protect you," the bot added.

Natasha then said something she never thought she would be saying. "Maybe Tony's right..." Tony must have found it surprising too as he was fast to turn his head in her direction. "If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-" 

Sam crossed his arms and leant forwards on his toes. "Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?"

"I'm just reading the terrain," she answered. "We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back."

"Focus up," Tony interjected. He fluttered his hands in the air before continuing. "I'm sorry. Did I just mishear you, or did you agree with me?"

"Ohhh, I want to take it back now."

Smirking, the philanthropist stated, "No, you can't retract it. Thank you."

"Unprecedented."

Steve's phone went off. The Captain picked it up slowly and brought it close enough to read the notification. It was a text. "I gotta go," he mumbled.

"What? I just won this case!" Tony exclaimed.

Steve glared at him sternly. "I have to go."


	27. Chapter 27

"Da-Dad?" Peter asked sheepishly from beneath the mountain of blankets he was hiding under. He had been there since eight, when Tony had been pulled into the meeting earlier that day. 

The teenage boy was still confused: his Pops had said that the meeting - the accords, or whatever he had referred to them as - was going to affect him in a big way. But... what were the accords, exactly? The billionaire had assured him that he would inform him about anything concerning him that had come up in the meeting. However, Peter had doubts that his father would tell him the whole truth.

"Hey, bud," the genius said calmly. He nudged a pile of books to the side, before sitting down beside his son. "Aren't you meant to be sleeping right about now? Isn't it like... eleven at night?"

The teenager shrugged whilst rubbing his eyes. Eleven wasn't late for him anymore, especially with the occasional late night/early morning crime-fighting with his Dad. "You said you'd tell me if anything important happened," he slurred, blinking rapidly then waited for a second. "Did... did anything happen?"

Tony grabbed at one of the blanket's creases, fiddling with it in his hands. He could see his son fighting to stay awake, the need to know being the only thing forcing his eyes to stay open. If he told Peter, the kid would be worried sick... but if he didn't tell him, the boy would know he was lying. "Kid... every enhanced individual has to sign this contract."

"The documents Pops showed you earlier?" Peter whispered. The genius nodded in reply to him, unwilling to answer verbally. Peter could remember how angry the superstar-soldier was about the Accords earlier but his Dad has seemed willing to signit. Why did he sound so unsure now? The words every enchanted individual continued to rattle in his thoughts. "Would I have to sign it?"

The older man sighed, bringing his right hand to his chin so he could lean on it mid-thought. "I don't want you to-"

"What do you mean you don't want me to?" exclaimed the teen, sounding more lively and awake than he had at all that evening. "You...you told Pops that the Accords were a good idea, didn't you? You disagreed with him."

"And I still do," the billionaire said with a slight hint of rage in his voice. Yet, he was still keeping his calm relatively well, especially after the amount of 'definitely coffee, nothing stronger' he had consumed between the boardroom and the penthouse. 

"But..?" Peter supplied.

"But, it's up to you. It would be dangerous. The UN could... they could d-deploy you for whatever battles they want. Even if I, or you, said no. You wouldn't have a choice. You'd be signing your life away..."

"You're fine with signing your life away," mumbled the boy, in defiance. He wasn't too sure if this was the route he really wanted to go down but if his Dad could do it, so could he.

"They'd know your identity, Pete... you'd have to sign both your alias and your real name. They'd make in public information. You're already in a hell of a lot of danger being my son. But as Spider-Man... well, we'd have criminals lining up outside to come kill you."

Peter took a deep breath, inhaling the information his Dad had given him. He'd only just became Spider-Man, or at least it felt like that to him, and he wasn't sure if he was quite ready to take of the mask. But if it meant staying on the right side of the law- the law he was trying to keep, then he'd do it what. 

"Whatever it takes," the young boy piped. If he had to do this to stay a law-abiding hero, he would do. "I'll... I'll do it. I'll sign. I will, Dad... I'll sign it. I'm Spider-Man; I can defend myself. And anyway, the Tower is well protected."

"Are you sure about this, kiddo?" Tony asked, wishing he hadn't given the boy a chance to make his own decision. The Accords would be fine for him... but for a vigilante, who still had a life to live, was it really such a great idea?

"Yep."

* * *

Steve leant against the wall, trying to calm his now-heavy breathing with its icy chill. His phone was still in his hand, the case shattering in his firm grip. The message was still on the screen...

The number was unknown but it was obvious who they were on about. Peggy. It broke his heart to say he saw it coming, after all he was a man out of time- all of his friends, other than Bucky, had grown old without him. Most had died. Her time had ran out, however morbid it sounded.

He could still have picture her, not a day older than when he first got his shield. Her hair kept back in neat braids, whilst her uniform was completely spotless. The brown sparkle in her eyes was still there even to the last time he had visited her... but it had vanished now. Now it was only him, and Buck. They were alone in the world. 

Alone.

Peggy could have been alone when she passed... or as Steve would rather think, she had been surrounded by her carers: the people who had looked after her for the last few years. It was best not to think about it, though. Death and Steve Rogers didn't really get along.

His phone buzzed again. It was a text. From the same number as before.

Could he do that without crying? Could he do that without breaking down into an endless pit of despair, unable to escape? Peggy would do it for him. She probably had already done it, when the world thought him dead. 

He couldn't bring himself to say anything else. It was too hard. The knot inside his stomach had grown tighter, tugging at him painfully. Had he felt feelings for Peggy, back then? Maybe... but it was only because feeling them for Bucky would have meant execution.


	28. Chapter 28

"Are you sure you want to do this, Pete?" Tony asked from the other side of the room, watching as his son picked up the pen to sign the Accords. Ross was stood behind Peter's chair, watching the teen in a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity. 

"Well, Stark, he doesn't really have a choice now... does he?" the General said, smiling at the man's lack of control over the situation. The powerful Tony Stark finally having to listen to the law because he wouldn't want his son hurt, would he now? "If he doesn't sign then I'll have to detain him."

Peter exhaled before replying to both his Dad and Ross. "I'm fine, Dad... honest. If this keeps us on the right side of the law, I'll do it."

Ross patted the kid firmly on the shoulder, causing Tony to shudder. "You've got yourself a smart kid, Stark. Maybe you should take some advice from him." The General laughed.

Oh, Stark hated that laugh. He hated that man. However, sometimes the genius had to set an example of himself. A good example... He couldn't avoid the UN forever, he might as well listen now whilst he still had a chance of keeping the suits.

Anyway, even if they did take the ones they knew about away, they were so many more that they'd never find. Tony was an intelligent man, after all. No one would ever outsmart him. Ever. Except maybe Peter.

"D-done," said Peter quietly as he pushed the pieces of signed paper towards Ross. The older man had a malicious glint in his eye, his face painted in the thoughts of his scheming mind.

A strange sensation waved over Peter. He couldn't be Spider-Man, now. He had to wait for the UN to let him. He could train, of course. But, he couldn't go out every night with his Dad. He couldn't save people unless he was given permission. The teen took a deep breath. He knew this was better than the alternative. If his identity was ever revealed to the government then he would be forced to give it up forever... and it was likely there would be worse consequences too.

Peter was about to say something else- to ask what would happen to those who didn't sign, to those who didn't know they had to sign, when the door opened. There was a lady, dressed in a suit, with her red hair tied up neatly in a bun. "Mr Stark," she said politely, "You have a message regarding your son. I've been told it's urgent."

Tony stared into space for a second, before replying with, "Shit. Pep, can you clear my schedule for the rest of the day... Pete, come on." The genius stood up, indicating for his son to follow. "See you later, Ross."

As soon as they were out of the door, Tony pulled Pepper into a kiss. He knew it was something he probably shouldn't have done, especially in front of his kid, but it was well worth it. "Damn..." he mumbled, after taking a step away from her. "Pep, I-"

"Have wanted to do that for a long time, Tony?" she suggested, her eyes wide in a mixture of both shock and admiration. She leant against the wall, throwing a quick look at Peter before turning her gaze back to the ground.

The genius snorted. "You still don't look like you're protesting against this... You actually like me, don't you, Pep?" He smiled. "Please tell me there's nothing actually concerning Pete because I don't think I can just walk away from that." 

Pepper and Tony had come up with a getaway code for the man back when he first decided that meetings were boring and that ditching them for another hour in the workshop was way more fun. It generally got used once or twice a month but no one had noticed it so far, or if they had they just let the man run off to play with his robots.

"D-dad?" Peter stuttered, his face crimson, his eyes wide in shock. A part of the boy still imagined his Pops and Dad getting back together, despite the fact that Pops had already moved on. His Dad had been looking at his CEO, in a way Peter could only describe as admiration, for years. Maybe he should have seen it coming... but then again since when did the expected every actually happen?

"You see old Spangles and the One-Armed-Wonder making out all the time, why can't I enjoy myself a little?" Tony said, teasing his kid. It was the moments like these, the happy ones, the ones where he could wind up his son, that he never wanted to forget. After everything they had all been through, Pete especially, even the smallest moments were special enough to be savoured.

"Because-"

The teen stopped. He didn't really have an answer. Maybe it was because Pepper was a woman. That kind of made sense- it wasn't like he had ever seen either of his parents in a heterosexual relationship before. He hadn't really seen his Dad flirt with anyone other than Pops... or, more likely, he had just never noticed him flirt with others.

Tony ruffled Peter's hair. He then turned his attention back to the redhead. "You. Me. Dinner. Tonight. The Penthouse." He smirked as Pepper opened her mouth to argue. "Shush," he said, "It's non-negotiable." He brought his finger to his lips, signalling silences 

He then grabbed Peter's hand, slowly walking towards the elevators. "See you later, Miss Potts."

* * *

Steve forced himself to walk down the aisle, the wooden coffin light compared to the heavy pit in his stomach. It felt like a trek up a mountain just to get to the front of the hall. There were tears in the soldier's eyes, his hands shaking under the weight of death and guilt. If only he had been with her this entire time, maybe then she would have lived longer, maybe then she would have been okay.


	29. Chapter 29

"Da-a-a-ad," Peter whined, pulling away from his father's grip on his hand, once they had reached the penthouse. He was embarrassed, confused and annoyed... maybe not so much of the latter. "If Miss Potts is coming over later, what am I doing?"

Tony smirked. He found it adorable that after knowing Pepper for almost five years the kid still referred to her in such a formality. Peter had been raised right; he was always polite to everyone, even the bad guys. He shook away the thought- there was no need to bring up bad memories just after he had finally got himself a date with the most beautiful, perfect, wonderful, scariest woman on the planet. Pepper was the only one who could make the billionaire do anything. They were meant to be!

"What makes you think that you won't be there with us, kiddo? If Pep likes me, and she does, she's gonna get the whole package. Somehow she's gonna have to put up with you, Spiderling," said Tony. He walked over to the bar area, grabbing himself a whisky glass and a bottle.

"You mean I have to put up with all your flirting, which, by the way, you are not that good at?" Peter asked. His eyes widened. His lip dropping. This was the look Peter gave his father whenever he wanted something. And in all fairness, that didn't happen very often. The kid was grateful. Extremely grateful.

Tony gave him a soft smile. "Fine, Pete. You know what you can do. You can invite that friend of yours over... Ted, isn't it?" This was probably an awful idea. The two fanboy geeks together in the Tower that held all of their heroes. Peter had adjusted to it rather quickly but his friend had never gotten over the fact that his best friend's fathers defend the Earth. 

"It's Ned and thanks, Dad," Peter exclaimed, throwing his arms around Tony. He was almost taller than him at this point, meaning Peter had to move his head to the side in order not to hit his father's. "We are so going to finish the new Lego set you got me!"

"Which one's that?" Tony asked, more out of fatherly love than the desire to know which nerdy creation his son was building in his bedroom. He often bought the kid new sets but he didn't really check what they were, only to make sure Peter didn't already have it. Occasionally, when he wasn't too busy with Stark Industries or the Avengers Initiative, the genius would sit in Peter's room with him, helping him with his Lego. He was definitely putting his MIT education to good use. He chuckled, quietly. 

"It's the Imperial Star Destroyer... The Ultimate Collector's Series 10030 one! It's like the second biggest Star Wars Lego set you can get! It's crazy! It has three thousand pieces!" The boy sounded so excited. Only things like Lego could do this to him. And science.

"Wow, Pete. That is a lot of pieces. You think Jed's gonna be up to having dinner with me and Pep?"

The kid's eyes widened even more. "You mean you're actually gonna properly meet Ned?" Truth he told, Tony had never really, actually met his son's best friend. Usually, he was too busy or some emergency pulled him away from the Tower. Rhodey had met him, so had Clint and Happy, but the philanthropist still was yet to meet the boy.

"Uhuh, kiddo. 'Bout time I meet the kid I've been spending all my money on for your movie premieres and comic cons." He was joking, of course. Those events cost less than the bottle of whisky he was currently pouring from. It barely made a dent in the small wallet he carried around for those weird places that didn't accept cards, let alone his actual fortune.

The teen did a small dance. At least, Tong hopes it was a dance. It was a mix of his legs bouncing around across the floor and his hands waving through the air. His muscles had all relaxed so the grin on Peter's face was bigger than ever.

"Sometimes I wonder how you're mature enough to be Spider-Boy, Pete."

"Spider-Man!"

* * *

During his time laying low, making sure no Avengers would find him, Zemo decided to go about getting Hydra's golden boy another way. If he couldn't have the Stark-Rogers boy, he'd have to make do with original assassins: The Winter Soldiers. 

He was currently in Cleveland, in his car outside of Vasily Karpov's home. It was a small place, rather ran down. The blinds were slightly torn at the edges, bitten by moths and goodness knows that else. The outside walls were adorned in graffiti, and the front of the house's pavement seemed to be the single place on the block where weeds decided to gather. Altogether it was a disgusting place.

Vasily Karpov was one of the best handlers Hydra ever had. He had made sure The Winter Soldier would be worthy of all the praise the organisation gave him. He also kept the asset in line, punishing him relentlessly until the man he had once been shattered into a million pieces, leaving behind just an empty shell. He was also an organised man with an organised mind. He had a good memory and believe it careless to forget even one single mission report. That's why Zemo had come to him.

Zemo decided to get Karpov's attention by driving his car slightly too close to the rear end of the handler's. The two bits of metal connecting made a loud noise echo down the street, definitely catching the handler's heed. And, just as promised, the Soviet opened the door, wondering what the explosive sound had been.

"Hello, is this your car out front?" Zemo asked, slyly. He took a few steps towards the Russian, unsure of how easy it would be to gain the intel he needed. "I jumped the curb," he explained, "Maybe we could take care of it ourselves, though. If you wanna call the cops, tha- that's okay too, I guess."

Karpov seemed appalled by that idea. It was a rule all members of secret organisations followed: never get associated with law enforcement. It will never end well for anyone. Karpov shook his head, "No. No cops."

"Thank you." Then, before the Soviet could close the door, a punch landed right on his face. He falls back against the hard, wooden floor- hitting his head badly. 

Zemo looked around the apartment, turning over every inch of it. Eventually he came across a book. A blood red book with a dark star on its front. He smiled to himself. If he had to use this book and other darker methods to get what he wanted then so be it. He glanced behind him at his handiwork. Karpov was tied upside down from the ceiling, his head in a sink, which was slowly filling with water. He would be dead within the half hour.

* * *

Natasha walked over to Steve. He had been standing quietly alone in the aisle. His black clothes clung to his shaking figure. Nat had never seen him like this. Ever. "When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her," the soldier mumbled, his eyes still facing the ground.

"She had your back, too."

"Who else signed?" Steve asked, coldly. He didn't want to be the only one who didn't. Sam wasn't going to sign but he was only one person. One incredibly awesome person but one person all the same.

"Tony... Rhodey, Vision."

"Clint?" He queried, knowing how well the two former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents got along. Then again he hadn't seen the Hawk since before Peter's.... disappearance.

"Says he's retired." Natasha smiles. It was unlike her to let her guard down in such a public place but it was most likely she knew no one was going to interrupt them.

"Wanda?" Steve liked the kid. She was tough, able to stand up for herself. She had been through loads, everywhere she went was basically a trek through a sand dune.

"TBD... I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There's plenty of room on the jet." 

Steve bowed his head, sighing. He didn't want to sign the damn accords. Heck! The United Nations were almost as bad as Hydra with some of their laws. It wouldn't surprise him if there were still Hydra agents who were high ranking government officials. If they managed to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. the United Nations was probably just as Hydra-ified .

"Just because it's the path of least resistance doesn't mean it's the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together." 

Steve shook his head in annoyance, using all his willpower not to huff. "What are we giving up to do it.....? I'm sorry, Nat, I.... I can't sign it." He brought his hand to his face, leaning into it. Maybe it would make this Sokovia stuff disappear.

"I know."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I didn't want you to be alone." The assassin pulled him into a hug, something they'd never done- at least never outside of missions. He could recall their kiss. Shake the thought, Steve, he screamed to himself. Shake the thought.


	30. Chapter 30

A few hours later, Steve received a call. He had been expecting it, waiting for it even. Ever since the modestly sized television in the corner of his and Bucky's bedroom lit up with a a news article about the Wakandan King T'Chaka's death, and how The Winter Soldier was supposedly behind it, he had been sat on his bed, clutching his phone. 

It wasn't Bucky, though. Steve knew that. It wasn't just hunch. The soldier just knew that his boyfriend would never commit such an awful crime. However, the video that had been released showed a man who looked very much like Bucky and had consequently been identified as James Buchanan Barnes. It wasn't him... he hoped.

Natasha was there, though. At the conference. The one which has been bombed. He could only pray she was okay. What was he talking about? Of course she was okay. She's the Black Widow, nothing can beat her. Maybe nothing but the love that is directed to her friends. Her family.

"Hey..."

That was Nat. She sounded slightly shaken, maybe even shocked, but other than that she seemed okay. "You alright?" Steve asked, his fingers crossed for good news. 

It felt like an eternity had gone by before he got his answer. "Yeah, I'm okay. Got lucky, I guess... Just... I know how much Barnes means to you. I really do. Stay home. You'll only make this worse. For all of us. Please."

There goes Plan A. If he can't go looking for Bucky, or this person who claims to be Bucky, what is he meant to do? Just sit around and twiddle his thumbs? No way. That won't happen. That can't happen. "Are you saying you'll arrest me?" He wouldn't put it past her but after the law few years he doubted she would be that cold towards him.

He heard a sigh from the other end of the call. "No. Someone will, if you interfere. That's how it works now."

Steve shuddered. How had he forgotten about the new laws that came with the Sokovia Accords? Now he couldn't act without governmental permission because he'd be breaking the freaking law. Excuse him for his language but he was really freaking done.

"If that was actually... if that was actually Buck, then shouldn't I be the one to bring him in? The only reason he'd be acting like this if if Hydra got him again," he said, his voice breaking every few syllables. "I'm the only person who has ever brought him out of that trance. Shield will need me."

"Shield can take him, Steve. They won't kill him. I can promise you that but they'll be able to sedate him. Maybe after a few forensics and lie detector tests they'll let you see him." 

Natasha was struggling to lie. Steve could hear how untrue it was just by the way she was saying it. He needed another way to get to his boyfriend. 

"I've got another good reason why I should be the one."

"What?" the assassin snapped.

"I'm the one least likely to die trying."

"Shit."

* * *

"Hiya, Mr Stark," Ned said as he walked into the penthouse's lounge. "Woah this place is so cool."

The teen took his hat off, only for it to be grabbed by Peter, who quickly placed it on his head. Peter grinned; he was finally going to be able to introduce his Dad to his best friend. Tony shook his head in bemusement. His son really was a goofball.

"Hey..." he looked over to his kid, who was mouthing 'N' towards him. Okay. Simple. That meant that the other nerd's name began with N. The billionaire could easily work that out, after all he was a genius. "Ned," he finished. "Nice to meet you. And, call me Tony."

Peter glanced over to his friend, watching as Ned's eyes lit up. His friend was a huge Iron Man fan so obviously this was going to be a huge deal for him. "Oh my god," Ned whispered to Peter, "Tony Stark said we're on a first name basis."

The Spiderling laughed. "Dad?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Ned and I are gonna go play Minecraft on the Xbox. See you in a bit."

"Okay, Pete. Have fun."

* * *

Steve walked up to Bucky. His hair was slightly shorter. He was wearing a maroon jacket. But, it was his Bucky. The Bucky he hadn't seen in six months. "Do you know me?" he asked, his eyes flickering back towards Sam, occasionally. They were in Romania, Bucharest to be precise. 

"You're Steve..." Bucky replied, slowly. "I read about you in a museum." Steve quickly realised that Bucky was back to himself yet he didn't have his memories. Stupid Hydra and their stupid mind-wipes.

"They've set the perimeter." That was Sam. He was talking about the German Special Forces that were rapidly approaching from the south. They didn't have long but Steve needed to get his Bucky back.

"I know you're nervous," the Captain said, taking a step towards his boyfriend. "And you have plenty of reason to be. But you're lying." He prayed to God that Bucky was lying... if he wasn't, then they were all screwed.

"I wasn't in Vienna. I don't do that anymore." Bucky didn't lie, Steve remembered. He never had, even when lying could have saved their sorry asses from Mrs Barnes.

"They're entering the building, Cap." 

"Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive," Steve informed Bucky.

"That's smart. Good strategy."

"They're on the roof... I'm compromised!" There goes the first line of defences. Steve guessed it was just him now.

"This doesn't have end in a fight, Buck."

"It always ends in a fight."


	31. Chapter 31

"You got five seconds, Cap." 

Steve sighed. He took another step towards his boyfriend, or at least towards the man, who resembled him. The thoughts were all gone. All those happy memories were yet to resurface from the depths of Bucky's mind. "You pulled me from the river... why?"

It was a decent question. If Bucky didn't remember him, why would the soldier save his life? Unfortunately, the brunet was reluctant to provide an answer- and Steve wasn't sure if this was due to Hydra's training or because the man actually had nothing else to say. "I don't know..." he provided, which gave Steve next to nothing.

"Three seconds!"

"Yes... Yes, you do."

"Breach! Breach! Breach!" Sam yelled from over the comms. A grenade crashed through the window, settling beside Bucky. The glass was thrown everywhere, painting the floor in shattered, transparent fragments. The assassin kicked it towards his former friend and watched as the Captain smothered it with his shield.

Steve could hear voices. They were speaking in German. He wasn't sure what they were saying but knowing his luck it was unlikely to be good. Suddenly, the sound of the door being battered echoed through the room. They were trying to get in. They were trying to get to Bucky. He had to do something.

Bucky grabbed a mattress, lifting it with such ease that it appeared to way nothing. He pushed it to his side, blocking an attack from the window. Then he pushed a table towards the door, delaying their pursuers by a fraction as they began to swing into the building on cables.

Steve pulled a rug from beneath one of the German men, sending him flying. They may not have been fighting on the same team but at least now they had a mutual enemy. Bucky brought the blond back from his thoughts by slamming another man against the wall, the man's eyes rolling inside his head at the impact. "Buck! Stop! You're gonna kill someone."

Bucky dropped the man and turned his attention to Steve, swift to push him down to the ground by his chest. He punched a hole into the floor with his metal arm. "I'm. Not. Gonna. Kill. Anyone!" He then pulled up a floorboard, grabbing the backpack that was hidden beneath it; he throws it out of the window. Bucky then gets behind Steve, using the man and his shield as a way to avoid getting hit by the oncoming storm of bullets.

Another man was heading towards them, and to stop him, Bucky shoved Steve into him, causing the German to fall over in pain. More bullets came and Bucky used his metal hand to repel them, throwing another man into the shelves that lined one of the walls. Then, before anything else could happen, Bucky ran to the stairway, jumping a level without injuring himself. He had to get away.

Steve threw him a worried look, hurrying to follow after him. He watched as his boyfriend chucked a man over the railings and ran to catch him. He did. Why he did it.... he didn't know. Maybe it was his moral, maybe he just didn't want to see his friend kill more than he had to. He looked at Bucky wearily. "Come on man!"

Steve threw the cop up onto the landing, making sure that his gun was far enough away to not be a danger. He then hurled an oncoming hostile over his shoulder, allowing the man to hit the concrete. He could hear the whimper escape the German's mouth, surprisingly he didn't feel as guilty as he thought he would.

Bucky broke a bannister and swung down on it. The sound of wood snapping flooding the soldier with more adrenaline. He then took out another three men, careful to make sure no one is behind him.

A man aimed at Bucky, his gun following the assassin's head. Steve knocked the man's gun out of his hands with his shield whilst Bucky leapt down the stairway once again. He caught onto the railing with his flesh hand. Then he climbed up onto the floor, ran down the corridor and threw himself off of the balcony. He tumbled onto the lower roof of the neighbouring building, where he found where his backpack had landed. He picked it up and ran.

* * *

"This is nice," Pepper complimented as she began to cut up the steak on her plate. Peter smiled at her approval, nodding in agreement. His dad had apparently slaved away in the kitchen for the last two hours and it had paid off: the entire arrangement tasted divine. Ned seemed to be enjoying it too, as his eyes had quite literally widened with amazement when he saw what Tony had prepared.

"Yes, it is," Tony replied after finishing his mouthful. His day had bee good: the two boys had been left to their own devices to entertain themselves, which left almost the entirety of the penthouse to Pepper and Tony. To put it lightly, Tony wouldn't deny that they had had some fun.

Ned appeared to be gearing up to make a small speech. "Mr Stark, I... uh, um, I mean... Tony, um, thank you for this." He gestured to his plate, the people at the table, and finally the room in general. "Today has been awesome!" He was smiling wide and his Confidence Hat sat in his lap, his plate nearly empty.

Tony chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm. "That's okay, Ted! I mean, Ked. It's okay."

Peter shook his head in dismay; he knew that his dad could remember Ned's name but opted to forget it to be irritating. He sighed.

"It's Ned, Dad!" Peter corrected, even though he knew that was exactly the reaction his dad wanted.

"I know that, Pete," he said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, what do you think of it? I slaved in the kitchen for two hours for this so I'm not letting you go with just agreeing with other people's comments!"

Playfully irritated, Peter chanted in a tone that made it sound like Tony was forcing him to say it, "I loved it, it was really well-cooked."

"There was so much personality in that sentence, I'm astounded," Tony replied sarcastically. "You should go on TV."

"For what?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Ned shrugged. "For when you inevitably make a genius breakthrough, obviously."

"Peter's going to discover a new element," Pepper said. "And he's going to name it 'Starkium'."

"Hey! I already did that. Well, I rediscovered one and created it, which may I just said is basically impossible..." Tony boasted, his annoyance clearly fake - the bright glint in his eye not once disappearing. " Howard thought it was Vibranium but as always he was wrong. Bassadium is what they decided to call it. But me? I call it Starkonium." He tapped his arc reactor proudly, and Pepper rolled her eyes. 

"Peterium sounds stupid, though," he said, biting his lip to stop himself laughing.

"All the great elements named after people," Ned said, laughing. "Bohrium, Curium, Einsteinium, Lawrencium, Fermium, Rutherfordium and Peterium."

"Can't forget Iron."

The other three around the table burst out laughing. "Yes, Tony, I'm sure Iron was named after you," Pepper said through her chuckles. "Boys, when was it found?"

"Like, five thousand BC," Peter said, looking at ned for confirmation. "So, a long time before the phrase 'Iron Man' was coined."

"Haven't you heard, Peter? Your dad's immortal!" Pepper joked.

In a deadpan voice, Ned asked, "What was it like watching the fall of the Galactic Republic, Mr Stark?"

"Fascinating. In fact, I was personally involved in The Clone Wars." Tony said in a solemn voice.

"And that," Pepper said, gesturing to the amount of food left on each plate, "Is a story for after dinner."

* * *

Steve took a step back, taking in the sight that had just appeared out of nowhere. A man, clad entirely in sparkling charcoal, slammed into the side of Bucky, pushing the assassin onto the rough ground. If the newcomer was strong enough to best Bucky, it was probably bad news. Steve had always looked up to his pal in terms of strength, even after the serum changed his body. Bucky was mentally and physically strong... something Steve wished he knew how to be. His emotions always seemed to get the better of him. That's why he liked heading down to the boxing ring; it gave him a chance to take out his anger in a manageable way.

Bucky pulled himself up off the ground but his luck is quick to disappear as he is quickly slammed against a wall. He blinks, trying to regain control of his spinning vision. It felt like he was on a carousel, the world swiftly turning around him. It was quick to come back, though, probably due to the effects of the serum. That had to be one of the pluses of being The Winter Soldier.

The other man, who Steve has just began to realise resembled a wild cat of some sort, slashed at Bucky with his claws. The assassin dodged the attack. Just. He had held up a metal bar to protect himself.

Steve watched as Falcon swooped down from the sky, heading right towards Steve. "Sam, southwest roof." He braced himself for the impact, and threw himself off the roof onto the neighbouring building.

"Who the hell's the other guy?"

"About to find out..."


	32. Chapter 32

Once dinner was finished, Peter and Ned decided to head back into the games room, deciding to venture into another reality....

Virtual reality.

Peter and his father had spent a good month, or two, coming up with the designs on how to make the most efficient, realistic and most importantly fun VR headset in the market. Not only that but they had also created a room in which the user could experience a three dimensional effect- basically, it connected to the mainstream server, its code telling the room when to spray water or when to create vibrations. It did plenty of other stuff too. However, something had gone terribly wrong in there last time Peter had used it... and the room may, or may not, have been a little bit wetter than it previously had been. Let's just say that swimming through the ocean wasn't his best idea.

So, they had decided to go into the other room, hoping nothing would go as badly this time.

"This is sick!" exclaimed Ned, his hair sticking up in every direction as the headset sat on his face. His face had turned a shade of crimson, glistening slightly from the sweat he was producing in masses. It was probably a very good idea that he was wearing a black sweatshirt.

Peter grinned, turning off his VR Lightsaber, chucking it onto the seat. They had been battling each other, recreating the Battle of The Heroes, which from their favourite episode of Star Wars. "I know right!"

"I totally agree with you, now. Sure, I wanted to choose a fight that included The Inquisitor but that was really fun." He pulled the headset off of his head, waiting patiently as his friend did the same. 

"We can do that next, let me just set up the-"

They were submerged into darkness. An empty, cold darkness. The pair's confusion was voiced as the once yellow light began to flicker a crimson red. The heating must have turned off too; the boys were now beginning to shudder.

"What the heck is happening, Peter?"

Peter didn't know what to answer with. He could remember darkness. He could remember coldness. Lots of it. And it was never good. 

Zemo.

The Winter Soldier.

Hydra.

His head was spinning. His heart beating faster then it ever had before. He tried to block the memories, the thoughts he had been locking away for so long. But, it was impossible.

What was it that Dad had told him? Name five things you see that are you favourite colour, four things you can feel, three things you can hear, two things you can smell and one thing you can taste.

"The Xbox."

"What?" Ned asked, unsure of what his friend was trying to raise to his attention. He seemed scared, worried... Ned had heard of people listing stuff to calm themselves down but he didn't understand why Peter was so panicked by the dark. 

Oh right... Peter thought to himself. Ned didn't know about anything that had happened. He just thought that Peter was away: travelling. To him there was no coma, no fighting, no torture, no Hydra. No Spider-Man. And, that was the it had to stay. Peter wouldn't be able to live with himself if something happened to Ned because of him.

The Xbox... The Gameboy. The television. The headset. Ned! Okay, so now things that he could feel. He could feel his clothes, the headset in his hands and the floor beneath his socks. He could hear Ned's breathing, the sound of the headset powering down... and, was that the Imperial March?

Peter spun on the spot to face the door. His eyes widened at what he could see. Ned was laughing, pulling out his blue lightsaber as a joke, whilst the other teen tried to stop his shaking.

"I am your father!" Tony shouted, his voice modified by the mask. He pulled it off. He could tell Peter had gotten freaked out, nervous even... "Ned, is it okay if I take you back early?"'

Stunned, the kid replied with, "Uh, sure." He has also seen how badly Peter was acting. He was a good friend and knew when to leave.

* * * 

"Sam."

"Got him," Sam replies as he flew down and shoved the chopper off course. He grinned, the adrenaline of the battle really getting to him. It reminded him of Riley- the action they faced... He swooped down towards the street below.

Bucky broke free from his attacker, slinging his bag over his back as he ran and jumped another level. The other person- the man adorned all in black, slid down the wall, using his claws for traction. He landed at street level and the chase continued.

Steve followed, falling to the ground in a roll. The chopper shot at the ground, tearing up the sidewalk. It was as if concrete was being shot at the three as they sprinted along after each other. Bucky jumped, landing in an underpass. Instead of waiting, he decided to run through the traffic. 

Steve and the other man drop down, following Bucky and chase after him. The blond is panicking. If the other man got to Bucky first, there might be consequences for both men out of time. He turned around, checking for Sam. But, it isn't Sam. "Shoot," he whispered to himself. It's a Special Forces Vehicle.

"Stand down! Stand down!"

Steve doesn't know who said it but the voice is coming out of the speakers of the vehicle, the blue lights on top of it flashing. So, he does the smartest thing possible, he jumped onto the vehicle, splintering the windshield. The car stopped. Steve pulled him out of the window, shoving him to the floor, before smashing his way into the car, once more after his boyfriend, who was currently running over over the top of a speeding car... outpacing it.

The other man was only a few cars behind, leaping at the same pace as the sergeant. He then leapt onto the car Steve was driving. The Captain swerved from side to side, trying to throw him off but it was useless.

"Sam, I can't shake this guy."

"Right begins you."

Multiple police cars were following after them, the chase getting bigger and more intense. Steve continues to swerve, trying to ignore his conscience. He hit another car but decided to keep on going. He was already in deep, there was no point backing out now.

Up ahead, Bucky reached a fork in the road and faced oncoming traffic. He blinked, his mind going over every possible scenario before he leaped over the barrier, just as Steve drove through it.

A motorbike sped towards Bucky, who was quick to realise and grabbed the handle, spinning the bike around. The rider was thrown off. Bucky's eyes widened. He hopped onto the bike and rode away, sending cars careering left and right.

Steve was on his boyfriend's tail, the other man still clinging on to the vehicle with his claws. They followed him through another underpass, to be joined by Sam, who had finally caught up with the action.

The unknown man leaped off the front of the vehicle and onto the motorbike. The soldier reacted quickly, flinging the intruder over his head and leant the bike down on its side. He kicked the assailant away, straightened himself up and rode on.

The man in Black then decided to catch a ride through the sky by grabbing hold of Sam's leg. The Falcon tried to shake him away, kicking his legs in protest.

The four continued to fight, trying to escape from the others in the area. Someone threw a bomb at a building, sheltering the street in rubble. The man in black let go of Sam's leg, grabbing at Bucky and Steve swerved the vehicle through the debris, leaping out and pulling the man away from his friend.

Steve stood tall, not moving a muscle as armed police arrived and surrounded them. At least fifty guns were pointed at him, ready to fire with a word. War Machine leapt down from above and raised both of his hands. His mask retracted.

"Stand down, now," Rhodey ordered. His voice is stern, sterner than Steve has ever heard it to be before. He watched as Bucky remained still beside Steve, only turning his head slightly to watch as Steve placed his shield back on his back. "Congratulations, Cap. You're a criminal."

The armed forces moved in quicker, forcing Bucky to his knees. Some moved Steve's arms behind his back, making sure he couldn't 'try any funny business'. The man in black raised his hands, pulling off his mask as they ignore him and turn their attention to Steve. The man was T'Challa, the Wakandan Prince, or now King.

Steve eyebrows lowed, his eyes narrowing at the sight of who it is. Of course, the man wanted revenge on his friend, who did not and Steve will always repeat do not kill his father. However, he was slightly confused. And, after a second, he found himself staring at the young man with a look of confusion painted across his face.

Rhodey looked just as unsure.


	33. Chapter 33

Steve watched in horror as the pod, which was holding his boyfriend prisoner, was carried away by a military level forklift. He tried to make eye contact with the brunet but Bucky made no signal that he had seen him. The soldier then turned away, trying to ignore everything that was happening...

"Come along," T'Challa said, his tone indicating that it was an order and not just a request. Despite his youthful looks, the soon to be king seemed to have years trapped behind his eyes- grief burrowing its way to the surface. 

Steve followed after the prince with Sam trailing along behind him, heading to where a certain Sharon Carter was stood. "What's gonna happen to him?" Steve asked, trying to mask his panic with the usual face of confidence he wore.

"Same thing that ought to happen to you. Psychological evaluation and extradition," a man diminutive man, who also had a dusting of grey hair coating his head, replied. His voice was cold, tarnished with the ideals of someone that always believed they knew best... someone that thought rules were more important than morals.

Before Steve had the chance to ask who the clearly delightful man was, Sharon stepped in for him. She introduced him as: "Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander..."

"What about our lawyer?" questioned Steve, his eyebrows still raised in disbelief of this 'Everett Ross'. He threw a quick glance at Sharon, realising that she too was waiting for an answer.

"Lawyer. That's funny. See their weapons are placed in lockup. Oh, we'll write you a receipt." Now, the man was trying to humour the Captain. It wasn't going to work, though. Instead it just added to the uneasiness created by being without his shield. It was almost as if a part of him was missing.

Sam looked at the glass panes, shaking his head. He huffed as his wings were taken away from him. " I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in those." 

"Now..." Everett continued, "You'll be provided with an office instead of a cell. Now, do me a favour, stay in it?"

Steve didn't like the idea of an actual cell but the idea of being in a room with the order not to leave it still felt as much a prison as the real thing. His eyes wandered to T'Challa's, who was just about to speak.

"I don't intend on going anywhere." 

The five headed down a walkway, the usually breathtaking view ruined by the atmosphere of what had happened. The crystal barrier between them and the outside world let in so much light that it would have been impossible to make the ten minute walk feel dark... yet it still felt like rain was crashing down as Steve set foot across it.

Natasha was next to speak. She had somehow materialised next to them, her training paying off in both missions for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the occasional prank war. "For the record, this is what making things worse looks like. Please don't do anything else, Steve. Peter might have Tony but he does need a responsible adult in his life to turn to... speaking of the devil."

Tony was stood up in the middle of an office, his neck craned in an effort to keep his phone in place as he noted something down. He tossed the paper to the side, before saying, "No. Romania was not Accords-sanctioned. And, Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup."

As Steve got closer to his ex, he realised his son was also in the room. Peter was sat on the desk chair, casually spinning it side to side, in an act of boredom. Natasha broke him from his trance. "Try not to break anything while we fix this."

"Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences. Obviously you can quote me on that 'cause I just said it. Anything else? Thank you, sir." Tony shoved his phone back into his pocket. He looked sympathetically at Peter, knowing full well what it felt like to be stuck in your father's business room with nothing to do.

The man had had to cancel his date, drag his son out of the house and think of all the possible things to let things go the way he wanted them to. He didn't exactly want Steve in a cell... however much they disagreed.

"Consequences?"

The billionaire spun on the spot. He hadn't seen the group come in. "Secretary Ross wants you both prosecuted. Had to give him something," he stated, shrugging.

"I'm not not getting that shield back... am I?"

"Technically, it's the government's property. Wings, too," Nat reasoned.

"That's cold," said Sam.

"Warmer than jail," replied Tony.


	34. Chapter 34

Tony walked down the long hallways, searching for Steve, Peter by his side. The man had walked off, after their last talk. They were quick to find him in a glass office, which happened to overlook the control room.

"Hey, you wanna see something cool? I pulled something from Dad's archives," Tony said, picking up a small black case. He grinned, showing Peter the contents of it. "Felt timely... FDR signed the Lend-Lease bill with these in 1941. Provided support to the Allies when they needed it most."

"Cool..." Peter replied absentmindedly, trying to stay out of the headspace that overcame him every time he saw his Pops. It was nothing personal against the blond- well maybe it was, but it more to do with the tension that surrounded them that started whenever they were left alone together.

"Some would say it brought our country closer to war."

Tony span on the spot to face the soldier. He couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He took a few deep breaths, before figuring out what to say: "See? If not for these, you wouldn't be here. I'm trying to... What do you call it? That's an olive branch. Is that what you call it?"

Peter raised his hand, in the same manor a student would do to gain the teacher's attention. "Is Pepper gonna be here soon? You said she'd pick me up so I wasn't stuck here the entire time..."

"Pepper?" Steve questioned. He knew the woman; she was a kind, intelligent, if somewhat stubborn person, who managed to get even Tony Stark to do as she said. Steve wouldn't be ashamed to say he admired her.

"We're kinda... Well, not kinda..."

"Dating?"

"Yeah," Tony lifted his right hand to scratch the back of his neck. "We've always had the chemistry, just didn't know we both had the feelings..." His smile faded, when he realised that Steve was still frowning at him. "What? What is it, Rogers?"

"It's just... it seems a bit like a rebound relationship," the blond shrugged. He was quick to add, "To me," after noticing that Tony was now sending him death glares.

"And you and Mr Metal Arm aren't also a rebound couple? Excuse me for thinking but I believe it's been over half a year since we broke up. This isn't rebound. Your's was rebound-"

"Tony, we-"

"No! I don't care if you had feelings for him before the freaking war. You said you had feelings for me, too... Maybe you were wrong. Maybe we were both wrong." The brunet glanced down at his phone, which had just vibrated and had begun to glow. "Pep is here, kiddo. You know your way out, right?"

"Yep..." The teenager hurried out of the room, glad to be free from the heat of the discussion between his parents.

"I didn't realise you liked her in that way," Steve continued, trying to piece together everything about Pepper and Tony that he could, in his mind. "But, I can kinda see it working. She's got a lot to work with."

"Maybe I am a handful... but she won't leave me after one little thing."

"It wasn't just one thing, Tony. You and I both know that."

"Dad was always the pain in the ass, you know. I'm following in his footsteps. But anyway, he and mom always managed to make it work," Tony stated. "Me and Pepper will be able to, too."

"You know, I'm glad Howard got married. I only knew him when he was young and single." 

"Oh, really? You two knew each other? He never mentioned that. Maybe only a thousand times. God, I hated you."

"I don't mean to make things difficult."

"I know, because you're a very polite person."

"If I see a situation pointed south... I can't ignore it. Sometimes I wish I could."

"No... No, you don't."

Steve smiled thinly. "No, I don't. Sometimes."

"Sometimes I wanna punch you in your perfect teeth. But I don't wanna see you gone. We need you, Cap. So far, nothing's happened that can't be undone, if you sign. We can make the last 24 hours legit. Barnes gets transferred to an American psych-center... instead of a Wakandan prison."

Steve frowned, picking up one of the fountain pens. He began to pace, eagerly trying to come up with a plan, where everything ended on a good note. He turned to Tony, not yet noticing the multiple screens on the walls, which were in the control room beyond them. "I'm not saying it's impossible but there would have to be safeguards."

"Sure. Once we put out the PR fire, those documents can be amended. I'd file a motion to have you and Wanda reinstated..."

"Wanda?" Steve asked, his eyes widening in panic. "What about Wanda?" The girl was too young to get mixed up in all this. She was practically a child compared to the rest of the team.

"She's fine. She's confined to the compound, currently. Vision's keeping her company."

"Oh God, Tony! Every time. Every time I think you see things the right way..." He craned his neck, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief, before forcing his eyes to make contact with the genius'.

"What? It's a 100 acres with a lap pool. It's got a screening room. There's worse ways to protect people."

"Protection? Is that how you see this? This is protection? It's internment, Tony." He slammed his fist again the table, flinching when a glass fell and shattered. They both ignored it.

"She's not a US citizen, Steve..."

"Oh, come on, Tony."

"And they don't grant visas to weapons of mass destruction," he continued.

"She's a kid."

"GIVE ME A BREAK! I'm doing what has to be done... to stave off something worse." Tony didn't like all this blame, this guilt. It wasn't his fault. He was trying to do what was best for the team. There wasn't much to work with. He was doing his best.

Steve nodded faintly, "You keep telling yourself that, Tones." He placed the pen down. "Hate to break up the set." He walked out of the office, leaving Tony to himself. 

The genius' eyes flickered to the screens... the ones showing Bucky. He began to watch intensely at the scene that was taking place.


	35. Chapter 35

Sharon tossed a piece of paper towards Sam. “The receipt for your gear...” She smirked, when the Falcon read out what it said- tucking her hair behind her ears at the same time. 

“Bird costume?” Sam said, annoyed. He sighed, loudly. “Come on!” He placed the paper on the table and gave Sharon a look that anyone could read. 

She placed her hand over her heart and exclaimed, “I didn’t write it... though, I do wish I was able to take credit for that.” She again suppressed her laughter at Sam’s facial expressions. She pressed a small, silver button and pointed up at the screen; the audio of it was now turned on.

Sharon and Sam both looked at the screen, watching as the two men interacted.

A man, who had curly, black hair, which somehow avoided his empty, grey eyes, stood in front of where Bucky was being held. He looked at the soldier, taking in everything the man out of time did. He hid his smile, trying not to show how happy he was that he had managed to be the one allowed to evaluate Barnes. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit? Your first name is James?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He didn’t even move a muscle. Something was off about the man and his foreign... Sokovian accent. He could tell that nothing good could come but he wasn’t going to try anything. He had to make a good impression on S.H.I.E.L.D. again, even if it was just to please Steve. Anyway, he could easily break out of the pod: he just didn’t want to.

“I'm not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James? I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James.”

“My name is Bucky.” 

Hydra used to call him James... back before they had fully wiped his memory. Back when he still screamed for Steve through the tortures the organisation had concocted.

* * *

“Pepper... you gotta tell me what’s going on.” Peter whined, using the same tone Luke Skywalker did throughout the entirety of the originals. “If Pops did something, surely I deserve to know?”

The redhead took a deep breath. “Peter, I can’t tell you because I don’t know. If I knew I’d say... I promise.” 

“Okay, I believe you.”

* * *

Steve took another long, hard stare at the the blurry photo of the man, who had been behind the bombing of the congress meeting in Vienna. “Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?”

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Sharon supplied, hoping it was the right answer the Captain wanted to here.

Steve nodded his head. “Right. It's a good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.” 

“You’re saying someone framed him... aren’t you?” 

“Steve, we looked for the guy for almost two years and it took all of our resources to find him.” Sam rubbed his head and added in a whisper, “Man, I still have so much sleep to catch up on.”

“We didn't bomb the UN. That turns a lot of heads.” 

“Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would,” Sharon cut in. Then, she turned her attention to the screen showing Bucky and the evaluator.

Steve frowned, the skin on his forehead creasing as he looked around. “Yeah,” he muttered. Sharon‘s eyes narrowed as she watched the curly-haired man take another step towards Bucky’s pod. 

* * *

“Tell me, Bucky... you’ve seen a great deal, haven’t you?” He grinned, showing his perfectly-white teeth. His phone vibrated; a message popped up on its screen.

“I... don’t... want... to... talk... ‘bout... it,” the soldier said through gritted teeth, trying his best not to lose his temper. He knew what happened when the other him got out: people usually ended up dead.

“You fear that… if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don't worry... We only have to talk about one.”

* * *

Darkness. Everywhere. The power was out and Tony Stark had no clue what had happened. However, he did enjoy the moment of watching Everett hiss in panic, when he realised that no power meant no security cameras... and then he realised it affected him too.

“Great... Come on, guys, get me eyes on Barnes! Go.” Everett snapped, keeping the same amount of cool as the sun.

Tony tapped his glasses. “FRIDAY, get me the source of that outage.”


End file.
